


呵呵哈哈嘿嘿

by Bladevendor



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: 中文
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 22:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 62,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17455688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bladevendor/pseuds/Bladevendor
Summary: 很小很小的我写的乱七八糟的东西。





	1. 【看啊！我曾经的语法错误！】A Winter's Tale

A Winter's Tale

It was the 7th winter of Alaeya's life, and a much warmer one.  
Alaeya sat by an ice mountain on a glacier. In her little hand, she held the 7th birthday present from her dearest friend. It was a blue scarf. She put it on and smiled, feathery snow melted in her hair.  
"Thank you, Hibernis."  
The mountain beside her moved. A human-like figure rose his upper body, his tiny eyes blinked under the sun.  
“Are you the only Ice Giant？” she asked. Alaeya had never seen another Ice Giant. She had never seen anyone on the glacier other than Hibernis.  
"No, and yes." Hibernis breathed deeply. A booming sound echoed in his chest, as strong as if it came from the centre of the Earth. This might be scary to other children, but Alaeya was not just any girl.  
"I am not the only one existed, but the only one left......"  
The giant let her stood on his palm and set her on his shoulder. Alaeya leaned on his shoulder and sat quietly still. She knew Hibernis was about to tell her a story  
"lovely child." he started.  
Alaeya was a lovely child indeed. She had the beauty of winter. Her blonde hair, her fair skin，everything just fitted so perfectly with this land. This pretty glacier......

"Lovely child, Giants are spirits of their lands, other lives' love and caring for the land kept us alive. My dear Alaeya......"  
" Hibernis, am I the one who kept you alive?" Alaeya asked softly.  
The Giant held her closer.  
"Yes. Ah, young Alaeya, in a time too old for you to remember, when the time just started, our mother, the Earth, gave birth to us. Giants, humans, animals and plants. Everything you called nature. Back then there were many of us, many of every kind. Our mother was healthy, time was good." He paused for seconds and kept on telling.  
"I met my first human friend on a chilling day. It had been so long that I couldn't recall his name, but his appearance I will never forget. He was young as you are, thin and with the most lively eyes. I carried him all across the frozen land, running under the sun, the stars, and the moon. His laughter weaved into the wind. I once believed that we will stay together forever, happy and bright as the sun."  
He gazed at the darkening horizon and stopped. He listened to the wind as they still carried the happiness of the young boy.  
"But no. How could I be so blind? A child never stayed a child, growth always came. One year he chopped down trees and built his own house. The other year he built a family. I could still hear his laughter, but it was for his new house, the growth of his possession and the population of his family. Everything was never the same. Ah, he used to love the chirping of birds, but one day he shut the window to block it away. The forest slowly backed away from him, but he kept on exploiting the land to create bigger farm, even bigger farm. He showed little concern. But he was still my friend, he still took care of the health of his farmlands." Hibernis swallowed a bitter sound.  
"But generation after generation, not anymore. Villages formed, castles rose, cities grew and grew. Every relationship I had with every human ended in terribly similar ways...... And Giants, we kept on dying. There are only a few of us left, Alaeya....."  
Alaeya touched his neck softly.  
"Hibernis, I am not like the others. I won't leave you, I promise."  
The last Ice Giant sighed.  
"I hope so, I hope. But, good Alaeya, this is not about the Giants, not about me. It's getting dark, my child, go to sleep now......"

She woke up at home, on her tiny bed. On her neck was the blue scarf from the last Ice Giant.  
She treasured that scarf that winter, thinking of Hibernis.

The next winter, her father sent her to her auntie's house, away from the glacier, away from Hibernis and his stories. She could only go to the little wood and talk to the old trees. She didn't wear her wool hat that year.

The year after, her father found a job in the city, she stayed at her auntie's house again. There was a newly built factory nearby which attracted most of Alaeya's interest. Compared to the new fun place, the old forest was worth nothing. She never set foot in there again. She took her mittens off that winter, for they were no longer needed for the weather.

They moved to a nearby city and Alaeya finally caught up with time. All the smoke, the smell of oil tar, all the factories. So new. And life was so new. They could dump no matter amount of food, they could just throw them directly into the city river. She made many new friends too, everyone did the same thing. She took off her winter coat this year.

The following winter, Alaeya went to visit her aunt. Where the old wood was, stood a good -looking power station. Her own home, the city, grew in size and population. The city river turned green from all the used water from the uncountable factories around. She started wearing skirts that winter and she was happy.

One year later, the weather was even warmer. She and her friends had more time to do all the summer things. They went swimming in the indoor pool, they dressed nicely to the cinema, they ate ice cream. She had so much fun, the image of Hibernis slowly faded away. That winter, Alaeya finally took off the blue scarf from her neck and left it on the ground.

The weather got warmer year after year. Summer was hotter and winter became just like summer. Alaeya's icy blonde hair turned dark and her snow-like skin got tanned. The beauty of winter, the beauty of that glacier went away. But no one cared.

When Alaeya reached 17, she and her friends went to a winter-themed amusement park which had a gigantic room filled with man-made snow and ice. They had fun there.  
At the end of that trip, they found a statue of a Giant standing alone in the corner.  
"He looks amazing." A friend of her exclaimed. " How wonderful if he is real."

Alaeya rushed back to her old home. She asked everyone there how to get to the glacier for she had not been there for ten years. She couldn't find the way anymore.

Finally she got to where the glacier used to be, but she saw nothing.  
No Hibernis, not a single piece of ice. Nothing.  
There was no more winter.


	2. 【阴阳师】水枯风雷止

一篇毫无波动，没有剧情的流水账。扩梗，各种废话堆积。  
小学生文笔注意。  
占tag抱歉  
似乎是群像，略阴沉向。  
有伪茨酒，真酒红，狗雪，和阎判。有提及阴阳师x式神。茨酒非正常cp，注意避雷。  
阴阳师指的不是晴明神乐博雅八百。  
OOC是我的。我喜欢每一个式神，不黑任何一个～一切扭曲都事出有因。

 

这个寮的主人有一颗石头做的心和一双无光的眼睛。他的寮富有，强大，却总是静悄悄的。

那寂静被热闹包围着，正如两旁狭小的阴阳寮环绕他的。这是平安郊区最好的位置，只有他，或许还有他的死对头，才有能力在此圈出如此大的一块地方。

那建筑占地确是很大的，且分为不同的院落。  
中间的主院住着那个阴阳师，和他看中的主力。东西两个不见天日的院子里住着姿容姣好的男妖女妖。而角落里，那个被称为北院的小院子，里面住了很多式神。那些地位最低的小妖，面容平凡的妖，和一到来便被晾置的式神，都住在这里。无论曾经身份高低，他们都被遗忘了。

重门深院里赏罚分明。阴阳师绝顶聪明，深谙只有如此这大寮才能正常运行。阴阳师声名在外，来拜托的人络绎不绝。他从不挑剔，来者不拒。据他所说，苍蝇腿也是肉。他的态度如此，他手下的式神亦然。只是那些琐碎的事务谁都不愿去做。阴阳师便说了，做事情的主力可以获得委托金中的一部分留以己用。做琐碎事务的靠数量，做凶险事务的靠质量。他那些相妒的式神们被这金色的枷锁和别的什么拴着，这才乖乖的，安静的活着。

阴阳师快乐吗？没人知道。他的主力呢？没人敢说。只是看着他们…他们依靠着自己的实力和付出，穿着锦衣华服，用着神兵利器。每早每晚，他们坐在一个院子里，各自分开的桌子前，吃着珍馐喝着佳酿。嘴里吃着，眼睛上较着劲。比比谁吃的好，谁穿的好，再在心里咬牙切齿一番。他们坐在一起，却宁愿这院子被深沟分割，他们各占一块，互不相干。

然而这些都无所谓。这一切都不会被看见。  
暴露在阳光下的，能被看见的，是他们荣耀的住在主院里。或许，还被阴阳师放在心上。他们是所有式神敬仰的，羡慕的。

东西两院，两座被大树笼罩的囚笼。那里住着那些姿容姣美的。东院住着男妖，西院住着女妖。他们看上去虽不如主力们风光，但物质上过的也还不错。这寮毕竟非常富裕。  
阴阳师最喜欢去东西两院里走走，每次到总会给里面每具美丽的身体带点什么。他随便挑一间过夜，天亮就走。走前，留下的东西总能让那些未被选中的眼红。所以，每次阴阳师要来的风声一到，东西两院之间，院子之中，总会有场无声的风暴。  
怪的是，这些美人虽都争着阴阳师的宠爱，但私下里异常融洽。这些除了被结界围住的花町和自己院落无处可去的式神经不住寂寞，也等不起这石头一样的阴阳师。姑娘男孩之间互相暗生情愫的不少，只是这个是看不见的。

看得见的，是她们有着数额不小的月银和接连不断的奖赏。这些美人们日日无事，当真度日如年。在这不见光的院子里久了，也学会了赏花咏月，就是男妖也精通起敷粉描眉。实在无聊了，就只能去町中走走，流水般花着手中的银钱。互赠礼物打发时间，走一走也解心中之郁。日子一天天过着，看着，她们倒是比那些主力精致风雅了。

北院里的小妖们…没有什么必要了解他们。他们没什么力量，日子琐碎而忙碌。对于其他院落来说，他们是不存在的。但他们存在啊，就像影子一样，他们在那里，在整个寮每个角落，做着不被其他式神看见的事。但他们都知道阴阳师看得见，他无时无刻在盯着他们。这个寮赏罚分明。若是他们日复一日的工作有了差错，便会立时如被黑暗吞没的烛火一样消散。  
撑起这个院子，照顾着这些平凡的孩子们的，是司风雷的神灵和蓝肤的水君。小院的孩子叫他们叔叔。他们住在这里，平和的好似他们一直都属于这个院落。

他们俩辗转去过很多的寮。下一个，又是下一个。他们在这小院里住的时间也不短了。日子一久，任是谁都棱角不再。

没有几个人记得他俩刚来的样子。一个笑声响彻云霄，一个摇着扇子一派意气风发。只可惜。  
不，不可惜。有什么可惜的。没有用的式神，有什么可惜的。

他们到来的时候，这个寮已经初具规模。阴阳师对他们看也没看就离去了。从那天起，他们就住进了这个角落里的小院。

小院里式神太多，每人的位置很小。还好，住在这里的大多都是没长成的孩子。他们看着是孩子，心灵是孩子，日子却不该是个孩子该过的。大家每天都有工作要做。每个孩子都忙忙碌碌。北院里很拥挤，但也总是一片寂静的。

又是一年秋天。天冷了，雨却依然下着。  
比一个下雨的秋天还糟糕的，应该就是下雨的秋夜。  
这是个寻常的夜晚。阴阳师回来了，不比平时早，也不比平时晚。寮门口的石路两旁有灯。那些灯没有灯杆，有的是背后黑暗中站着的一个个男孩子。他们提着灯，每天准时到来。无论严寒酷暑，他们一动不动的站着，手里灯火拼命跳跃燃烧，试图带来微弱的温暖，照亮主力队伍回家的路。火光照在路上，照在阴阳师石膏似的脸上，平板而煞白的。阴阳师一个人走在前面，脚步声一声声敲着，和着雨的嘀嗒声。莫名的那光的暖消失了，一个雨夜该有的阴冷如他的步子穿过门洞一般在骨缝里越钻越深。

阴阳师不用担心被淋湿了。跟在他身后的主力也不必。他们身边是有伞跟着的。那些会走路的伞从不用他们琥珀色的大眼睛看任何他们伞盖遮挡的式神，也从不出声。他们的大舌头被小心翼翼的卷起，保证不会碰到谁的身上。被派出的式神和阴阳师操劳一日，心情一向不好。这时只有傻子才会去触这个霉头。佛叔叔和川叔叔教过他们，不被注意比被盯着好。小院活着的小妖都知道，他们都明白。

主院年年上好桐油的大门开合无声。空中悬浮着灯笼一下在他们进门之时变大三倍，刺喇的燃烧声清晰可闻。阴阳师皱了皱眉头，这声音便消失了。漂浮的灯笼里面飞出火焰最盛的几个跟随沉默的六个归人。

下着雨，晚餐在厅中进行。阴阳师往主楼走，身后式神跟着。主力队伍脚步混乱，毫无节奏的敲击庭院里潮湿的地面。雨水往石板之间的沟渠里汇去，又你推我赶的逃离这安静的院落。雨水是流不完的，阴阳师却可以离开。他们进了门，沉重的锁又拴上。雨下得更大了。会走路的伞站在门外，等到无人出来才散开去罩住那些悬浮的灯笼。灯笼并没有湿，多亏了他们外面包裹的一层泡泡。灯笼虽然不怕雨，但依然飘到伞下。伞挡住了风，灯笼烧着，温暖着伞下被忽视的身体。他们就站在院子里，像每个雨夜他们做过的一样。

厅里桌子早就布置好了。跟进来的灯笼乖乖悬停在餐桌上空。有六张桌子空着，其他桌边坐着并未外出的式神。大部分互相眼神从不友善的交错，只是低头等着阴阳师回来。阴阳师摆摆手，一言不发离开厅堂。一个灯笼跟着他，在走廊里渐渐消失。他去的是侧门的方向。

长相不同的两种男性幽魂式神端着晚餐与烧酒回来。主力妖吃不惯厨房惯有的东西，每日自己掏银子换着花样饕餮。因而，每个妖面前的都不一样。他们静默的咀嚼着，用眼神互相剜着。

这里也有不互相妒忌的。坐着进食的不仅是主力式神而已，还有两个东院来的。白发红角的大妖在红发鬼王身边坐下。鬼王只是面无表情的喝着酒，不反抗也不迎合，任由应该是他鬼将的妖怪圈着肩膀。他直勾勾的盯着前方，心似乎不再身上。

“挚友，不高兴吗？”白发大妖状似关心的问鬼王。没有式神看向他，也没人在乎他发出了声音。寂静吸收了他的问话，窗外的雨声模糊而遥远。  
鬼王没有回答。他已经很久没有说过话了。鬼将似乎很清楚这是他能得到的唯一回应，他耸耸肩，继续匡住鬼王的肩膀，丝毫没有享受意味的吃起面前精致的珍馐。鬼王侧过头去，刻意离他的鬼将远些。他裸露的脖颈上青青紫紫，胸口布满划痕。他的鬼葫芦，似乎不知所踪。

地府的主宰靠在月亮上，面前蒙着双目的男子跪在地上。她的茶案由他双手举到面前。她的兴趣却不在那些软糯的茶点上。男子衣领敞着，从她这里看来风光大好。男妖是拘谨小心的，奈何女主人调教有方，如今也远不如当年青涩。女妖喂男妖一口茶点，无声的笑在两双唇边绽放。灯笼橘红的火光完满的撒在他们身上，好像把他们从这雨夜里抽离，从这沉默而寒冷的厅中隔开。

还有一对妖坐在一起。他们之间也没有言语，眼神交流也是少的。就算如此，他们在剑拔弩张的单桌间也依旧突兀。他们这样很久了，很久没有分开了。这主院里很冷，太冷了。他们的锦衣还是皮裘都挡不住那种森森。虽然一个本身就是冰霜之体，一个身披羽翼，但他们愿意在一起，互相遮挡着。

单桌面前坐着的式神整理好自己的仪容，以最柔软优雅的姿势吃着面前的晚餐。没有人发出咀嚼的声音，没有人发出吞咽的声音。要是做错了什么，就不仅仅是经受他桌傲慢的眼神了。谁都不想被耻笑，于是这场沉默进行的漫长。就如每天一样。

要说有什么不一样的，就是看向角落里贝壳少女的眼刀多了。女孩子不甘示弱的，也从扇子后面投回反击的目光。今日阴阳师的晚餐是她精心安排的，可惜是枉费心思了。讨好寮的主人未果，就只好承受这些嘲讽。其实成功不成功都一样，不过是成功时收到的是嫉妒的眼神，失败时收到的是幸灾乐祸的笑容罢了。

负责做饭的幽魂回到厨房。还有一些不错的边角留下，实在难得。再加上阴阳师的晚餐没动......今天终于可以给北院的孩子们一人做一口好了。

阴阳师从侧门离开主楼。门外有伞，也有漂浮的灯笼。他们总是守在每一个门口，不管有没有谁经过。

听闻阴阳师要来，东西院的气氛骤然紧张。相恋的姑娘小伙子们放下为对方卸妆的帕，各自回房重新描画。面用香粉扑之，腮用胭脂抹之，眼用茜粉描之，眉用蓝黛勾之。再上唇色，妆成。着锦袍，着纱裙，头戴珠光，身佩玲琅。

阴阳师去的是西院。守在东院门口有着柔亮长发的男妖回去了，手拿烟斗的男妖回去了。头顶有着猩红印记浓妆灿丽的那位也回去了。他们后面跟着的是腼腆的白袍男妖，还有一位用琴遮住了脸。他们都没什么表情，不知道有没有在遗憾。雨下着，伞和灯笼也在。他们永远在这里，不会让任何一个淋湿，也不会让谁站在黑暗中。他们的存在已经成了必然，已经不怎么被注意了。

东院的美人都聚集在厅里，就和每次阴阳师来时一样。女狐妖倚靠在椅子上，粉色纱裙的两位姑娘拉着手。身被羽衣火红的女妖灼灼生辉，坐在竹管上的女孩清纯可爱。抱着蒲公英的姑娘躲在一旁，挡着脸。其他的女孩子围成一团，站在屏风后面。

阴阳师没有怎么看她们。照例的，他一人发了一个小锦囊，然后便抽身去了西院最西边的屋子。姑娘们没有和往常一样跟上去，也没有在房外听。她们互相看看，回了房间。有些成双的一起走，有些独身走着，身影被悬浮的灯笼拉的又瘦又长。灯笼，他照亮了也看见了那些含在眼眶里的泪珠，闪耀的像水晶一样。

北院的孩子们都怕极了姑获鸟。其他式神都叫她姑姑，但是破败的北院里的孩子们是不敢的。主力队伍里只有姑获鸟一个不用带刺的眼光看人，她如其母亲般温柔。只是，就算姑获鸟对大家是真心的好，孩子们心里也挣不开恐惧的枷锁。他们知道，只要被姑获鸟带出了院子，就再也回不来了。

他们很久没见过姑获鸟了。上次把穿羽衣小男孩和他的妹妹带走的是那个背生黑翼的英俊大妖。他似乎比以前更为强大了。从那以后姑获鸟就没来过，每次来带走孩子的变成了他。

阴阳师打开屋门，看见白发红唇的女妖交叠着羽翅坐在床上。她好好装扮过了，开衩极高的繁复衣裙裹在身上。这衣服是阴阳师在送她来这里之前给她的。在这里住着只能如此穿着，她的斗笠和伞都已然和她分开。女妖闭着眼睛没有看他，也没有动作。她安静的接受了一切可能。西院的式神们都明镜一般明白，住在这里了，也只有这种生活。这一天迟早会来的。

阴阳师坐上床，灯笼听话的飘了出去。

寂静终于被打破。木床吱嘎，还有些别的什么声音。喑哑的，听不清楚。门外没有式神在听着，一个都没有。

不寻常的，阴阳师在太阳升起一个时辰之后才离开西院。他没有关上房门，房里的女妖也毫无动静。凉风灌入室内，回旋几圈，带出不少灰羽落在廊上。阴阳师清晰地脚步声走远，一个抱着蒲公英的女孩子悄悄走进室内。她红着眼圈想说什么，却在床上女妖温柔的注视下只是吸了吸鼻子。鸟妖揽过她的肩膀，一双羽翼环绕着她。就像她以前惯常做的一样。她这样抱过很多很多的孩子，但她再也不能了。她住在这西院里，出不去。小草妖浑身发抖的依偎在她怀里，眼泪蹭在她裸露的胸脯上。她叹息一声。  
傻孩子，你哭什么呀。姑姑没事，你哭什么呀。

雨停了，庭院里空荡荡的，伞和灯笼都不见了。阴阳师穿过院子，往寮门走去。

那个冰肌玉骨的女孩站在队伍的第一个。每天她都是第一个来等他的。她是阴阳师第一个式神，话不多，却为他创立了初始的一切。当时的阴阳师是个什么样现在看不到了，唯一可知的是他曾经看中她，现在也一样。这个女孩在同族之中何其幸运。住在这样富庶的寮里，免去和同族一般被吞噬的命运。相对其他式神，阴阳师算是待她极好。可能在阴阳师眼中，她是死去的昨天焚烧后剩下的灰烬，是要放在身边永远留下的纪念。她从未住过主院外任何地方，在小院居民的眼里她耀眼的像阳光下的冰晶一样。

她身边站着的。是那会去北院带走孩子的男妖。他今日戴着面具，遮住了俊美的容颜。他从不离开雪做的女妖半步，就如她不离开他。他隔着面具看着她，视线和晚餐同坐的时候一般难以察觉。女孩没有转过头，只是用手指轻轻勾住他衣袖。雪妖不怎么笑，而风妖的脸被面具挡着，看不见表情。他们肩并肩站着，衣襟在风中飘动。台阶上清扫的扫帚悄悄隐去。他心里是羡慕的，这种好事北院的孩子撞不上。

等着阴阳师的式神里最像他的是白发的鬼将。阴阳师说过，欲达目的，方式并不重要。鬼将和他待的时间太久，和阴阳师越来越相像。他的目的是鬼王，他也成功把鬼王带进了房。至于怎么做到的，这就不必知道了。鬼将胸前挂着六枚紫色的勾玉，而鬼王......不愿意又怎样，想达到他的目的实在轻而易举。他得到了他想要的，过程又有什么关系呢。

离阴阳师远些的，是两个女性式神。坐在灯杆上的成熟女妖不可一世。她只是看着自己的灯，刻意忽视其他。她幽绿的唇勾着轻蔑的弧度，仔细渲染的指甲在灯杆上轻敲。她自知强大，何必注意她厌弃的他人。

昨晚被嘲讽的贝壳少女用扇子遮着脸故作羞态，她好像在讨好似的用目光迎接阴阳师，但真实情绪被贝壳上的双眼暴露。她身上只有一串五枚勾玉做的链子，其他式神都有六个。贝壳突出的眼睛四处转着。或许是因为贝壳遮住了阳光吧，面貌羞怯的女妖脸上阴影深重。

北院孩子们口中的佛叔叔和川叔叔在日出之时就已经起来了。他们工作需要的时间更长。小孩子们晚一个时辰起来，整理一下，也去了该去的地方。

北院有门通往寮外，外面是个水池。鱼头人身的叔叔抱着一个巨大的框子走来，放下，又回去。他来了三趟，带来了三个筐子。三框子满满的衣服。蒙面的绿色男孩和鱼身的橙色女孩坐在池边。他们也刚刚才到。女孩子可是每天都要给那些灯笼上好保护泡泡的。她不想让他们熄灭了。如果有谁出了什么事的话，她的好朋友，那个能在梦中旅行的女孩又要伤心了。

衣服被放入池中，男孩子和鱼样的僧人将池子注满水。人鱼女孩手中拿着肥皂，将泡泡打满了水池。他们动作很快，也没有言语交流。他们日复一日面对同样的工作，习惯了，互相之间的默契早已形成。

双角独眼的孩子，瘦小独眼的孩子，和红发的女孩一起上了寮北的山。冬天快到了，整个寮院要用的火柴数目不小。别看他们身子瘦小，实际上能负载不轻的重量呢。但是一个冬天索要燃烧的木柴太多，他们很难集齐，所以基本上每个冬天北院能用的暖木寥寥无几。山上不止有柴可砍，还有不少野菜浆果。他们在入秋的时候已经收集好，交给厨房做成各种零嘴了。孩子们扛着斧头背着筐子上山。他们走的路上没有杂草，已经被踩得光裸而紧实。路旁的树垂着枝丫，想要触摸他们的发顶，却又够不到。孩子小小的身影湮没在一片黄褐的光影中。

 

月末了，又是该派月银的时候。一队式神走进仓库，在角落里坐下。肤色各不相同的一家人和戴着斗笠的女幽魂手里拿着几个做工精致的锦囊，相对多些的花纸袋，和一大叠黄纸糊成的小袋子。他们取下那个老秤，打开柜子上的锁取出这个月的分量。这个月的就是这个月的，每个妖的就是每个妖的。他们手脚麻利的，将碎银子秤出不同重量所需的份数。一点不会多，一点不会少。整间仓库里只听得见金属碰撞的声音，和金属掉进袋子里的闷响。如果他们不会手脚不干净。他们不想失去自己的双手，也不希望失去现在不算太坏的生活。北院的孩子少有长命的，她们不求些什么，能得到这么一份，已属不易。

虽然这一份银子微薄到他们一年买不起几件衣裳，冬天也换不起被子。

午时将至，厨房里烟火不息。北院的小妖一日只有一餐，而东西院可不能怠慢。午餐已经送去。他们和主院不一样，是单独在房里用的。红色的幽魂和蓝肤的幽魂一间一间的送过去。东西院的美人总是温婉而礼貌的。他们会点头致谢，但依然没有谁出声。

曾经这西院是有声音的。北院的小妖心中，住在这里最美的女子，是那位面若秋霜的姑娘。她一身红裙，头戴金钗，起舞之时轻轻一跃，轻柔的就像是天边的红霞落在树梢上。她喜欢合着音乐跳舞，她会笑，她也会和来送三餐的式神说句谢谢。但是她到哪里去了呢？小院的孩子不知道，也从未听谁提起过。阿川叔叔耳根子软，但这回连他也不肯告诉他们怎么回事。这个姑娘就像秋霜秋老虎无情的灼热下消失一样，变得杳无痕迹。

两面的神灵扛着两袋扫起的落叶。他踏着生了青苔的石板路走到洗衣池边。过了这里不远有个山坳，每个秋天扫起的叶子都是扔在这里的。这里或许还扔过别的什么，他记不清了，只是朦朦胧胧有些不好的印象。昨夜下了场雨，地上的落叶湿淋淋的，散发着霉菌的味道。两袋沾了水的叶子沉重，北院力气最大的属他，所以这活也归了他。叶子合着其他枝杈杂物被倒出，两面的神灵抖抖袋子，又回到了被高墙围起的地方。

这个寮院很大，叶子哪里是一下就扫的完的。他看着主院里满地破碎蔫卷的叶子，心下苦笑。他已经很累了。昨夜脾气暴躁的小女妖在山上划伤了手，给她治疗的女孩拍着手鼓哭了很久。看着她哭了，小院里其他的孩子也难过起来。好在这些孩子个个乖巧，他们没有吵闹，只是各自向叔叔们索取了一个拥抱。他和荒川一个一个哄着，擦干他们脸上的泪水。等到两个大妖睡下的时候，已经是深夜了。

蓝肤的水妖和行走的扫帚在西院室内清洁着，不经意间走到了那善舞女妖曾住的空房。他又想起她了，他一直不曾忘记发生了什么。她死了，魂魄都消散了。他摇摇头，走过她的空屋，进入那个身被红羽的女妖房间。他和勤劳的扫帚每日都会来打扫，同时整理一下室内陈设。

小院阴湿，被里的棉絮就算晾晒的勤还总是长霉，被单也几乎每年都缺。没办法，补衣服只能用这些布。冬天快到了，小院里又要替换四五床被褥。他有些发愁。平安京里的东西是越发的贵，就连周边本应便宜些的棉花也跟着涨。数一数，他一年存下来的月银，和两面佛手上的合在一起，才够置办三床。还缺的怎么办呢。北院里的孩子本身手头就没有多少，而且那些银子本是他们添置衣服用的，所以从他们那里是不可能的。无奈的，他与扫帚合力收集起房内掉落的羽毛。北院的小仓库里已经存积了不少羽毛。他们不希望如此，但是无可奈何。他们必须年年都要这样，才能挺过寒冬。

洗衣池边，衣服已经被挂在长绳上晾了起来。站在灯笼上的小姑娘小心翼翼的在绳子间飞着，将衣服上的水汽蒸干。池子里的水被清理出去了，负责击打衣物的僧人坐在一旁放松双臂。人鱼般的女孩双手搓的红彤彤，身旁的蒙面男孩也是一样。只是他轻柔的握住她的手，在嘴边吹出温热的风。就像川叔叔和佛叔叔常说的一样，吹一吹，痛痛就飞走啦。女妖抱着男妖开心的笑，腼腆的男孩子脸上的绿色变深了。他们本是调皮的小妖怪，但是他们没有玩水，也没有嬉闹。整个寮院寂然无声，孩子们也没有力气再去做更多的事情。

房间一间一间打扫过去。主院结束了，西院结束了，还差东院。天色阴沉下来。  
蓝肤的水妖收集了一大袋羽毛背在身上，推开了最后一扇门。鬼王坐在那里，直勾勾的看着对面西院。他在看那棵树。西院门口那棵树光秃秃的，死了很多年了。它的枝干上布满青苔，裂缝中长有硬质的菌类。那是一棵腐烂着的，丑陋的树。但鬼王专注的看着，看着。

什么声音也没有，连扫把的声音都听不见。鬼王不希望被打扰。打扫很快结束。鬼王的房里该有的都有，没有什么稀奇之处。但是他的鬼葫芦不见了。不是不见了，川主知道。那葫芦被捏碎了。没有这酒葫芦，鬼王酒吞什么都不是。

鬼王爱着一个女妖，那个女妖爱着石头一样的阴阳师。但是有一天，那艳丽的女妖从阴阳师的魔咒中走出。她憎恨起那个冰冷的男人。鬼王帮她偷走了她的契约纸片人，鬼王帮她酝酿一个计划。她希望将这本该温暖的寮从无尽的冬日里解救出来。但是她失败了。阴阳师什么都看得见。

她被地狱鬼手捏的支离破碎的身体和鬼王的葫芦一起被扔进扔秋叶的山坳里，鲜血滴了一路。水妖依然清晰的记得那个情景。那时候两面佛才到来，还懵懵懂懂。他捂着他的眼睛将他送回住的还不那么满的北院，然后回来擦干净地上的血迹。洒在地上的只是那个女妖的血，鬼王被白发鬼将带走了，他的血洒在床单上。

是了，西院门口的树就是那一天死去的。在他的蓬盖下起舞的女子不在了，它又何必再发芽呢。

上山砍柴的一队小妖运回今天最后几捆柴火。他们小小的脸庞被枝条抽花了，衣裳也有扯破了的。红发的小女孩似乎摔了一跤，手掌和膝盖都有些擦伤。他们把柴火堆到柴堆上，一个个沉默的进了院门。

扫帚也回北院去了。一天的扫洒结束，水妖在院子里遇见了扫完院子归来两面妖怪。一个额头上贴着花符的矮小女孩跑过来，气喘吁吁的。她告诉他们，仓库里的觉醒材料不够了。

北院的两个大妖揉揉小女孩的头发，让她回院子里去了。觉醒材料，就是四种属性的大妖精血各取不同形态的化为的四种东西。这些材料非常难得，阴阳师经常很久才能得到一些。刚好，他们一个属水，一个风雷兼具。他们对视一眼，走向仓库。

负责月银的小妖已经把钱袋分发好了。北院的孩子们聚在一起，喝着面前撒了点菜脯的稀粥。两个大妖从仓库回来时脚步都有些虚浮，但看见这些孩子时，笑容又回到了脸上。孩子们搬动椅子，靠到他们身边坐下。食物的热气化为白雾，让孩子们的笑脸变得朦胧，像在梦里看见的一样。

或许是因为食物的味道暖暖的，北院不再沉默，孩子们低低的话语声响了起来。小妖中有一个突兀的存在。抱着蒲公英的小草妖又偷偷溜出来到北院玩了。她穿着西院的妆花锦袍，和北院的孩子一起喝着不比水多多少料的菜粥。她是北院唯一的客人。她是萤草一族的，就是在其他寮里地位颇高的那个萤草。她也住在西院，偶尔给北院的孩子治治伤。为什么呢？因为一个画中仙子一样的女妖住在主院里，阴阳师的主力们有她就够了。这个女孩子，每次来都会带来膏药。她的药和她本人一样，散发着森林的气息。就算她住在西院，她也永远干净纯洁着。

那个喜爱手鼓的女孩子扭扭捏捏的提着裙子蹭到川主身边。她是北院孩子里里唯一会医治之术的。她红着眼睛，说院里最小的女孩的羽衣破了，她们的银子不够......蓝肤的水妖笑笑，拿出才发给他的黄纸袋子。女孩高兴地捡出几块碎银，飞快的跑到町中去了。是啊，天冷了。就算是妖怪，小孩子不添件衣服也是会生病的。

又是一天过去了。日子过着，转眼间已是初冬。

阴阳师没有接受任何委托。昨日他向他的死对头下了战书，今日出门竞技。他还是面无表情，还是带着那五个主力。今日和平日唯一的区别，是雪妖和风妖的手握在了一起。

收集的羽毛够一套被褥，川主想着。刚好主院里要换下旧被，回收一些还好的棉絮又能填出一床。他走去西院。那里住了个蛛妖，脾气很好。今年要拜托她织两床被套。去年他也拜托过她，前年一样.....她坐在院子里的树下，点点光斑映照在她的白发上。她见到他，完全不显得惊讶，只是坐起身，手指压在唇上。她早就准备好了被套，比需要的还多了一床。

院里的孩子们都出去了。他今天得工作完成的稍微早些，刚好有时间做这些事。旧被子换下来，新的盖上去。羽毛和旧棉花填充的被子对孩子不是太好，他想了下，这两床就留给他和两面佛吧。他们俩的被子状况还良好，那这个去换了旧被总归是好些的。

夜深了，灯笼一个一个有飘至寮里的空中。阴阳师回来了。

寮门被重重甩上，主院的大门差点从门框上震脱。北院的孩子本来已经睡下，却被这突然的声音吓的惊醒。他们聚到小厅里，两位叔叔已经在等他们了。他们听见怒吼的声音，由于距离太远听不清说的什么。他们只是胆战心惊的抱成一团，挤在唯二两个大妖身边。他们怕极了阴阳师这副模样。阴阳师又输了，他每次战败都这样。每次北院的孩子都吓得无法入睡。每次他们睡不着都会到厅里来的。

阴阳师在骂他的主力。他暴跳如雷掀了饭桌，食物倾洒一地。他指着鼻子一个一个骂，不管他上没上场是否相干。他连对他看中的雪妖也不曾留情面。风妖紧紧扶着雪妖的肩膀，戴眼帘的男妖挡在他女主人身前。青灯之上的女子和蚌壳中的少女互相推搡，白发的鬼将梗着脖子。

阴阳师骂了很久。他骂够了，便拂袖去了东院。主院厅里一片狼藉。他的主力们在哭。呜呜咽咽的，声音忽高忽低。每一次他们都要哭一个晚上。

北院的天边传出雷声，掩盖了那群大妖的哭号。漏雨的小厅里孩子们坐成一个半圆，听阿佛叔叔唱戏。他红的那边唱男，蓝的那边唱女，耍宝似的转来转去，再应和着天边的雷声，足以让这些心思纯洁的小孩子忘了外面，笑出声来。川主坐在孩子们的后面就着灯火补他们破了的衣服。大冬天，衣服破了里面的垫棉就会漏出来，那可是不好的。

孩子毕竟是孩子，时间一晚总归还是要睡觉。他们俩把小妖送回各自的屋子。他们在每个孩子的额头上落下轻吻，小妖怪们乖乖盖好被子睡着了。天边的雷声一夜没停，孩子们也睡得香甜。一般的孩子是害怕雷声的，但小院的孩子知道，那打雷的妖是个温柔的妖，雷声，也世上最温柔安全的声音。

隆冬时节大雪纷飞。阴阳师不再出门，北院的孩子们也成日缩在被窝里。

这冬天里最难过的，该算是亲水的妖怪。他们离不开水，但天气严寒，他们又没有足够的火柴将一缸水烧热。寮后有个温泉，但他们不能去。他们能做的只有在火盆边摆上小水缸，靠水汽度日。不用担心缸里的水干掉，有川主在呢。只是水汽远远不够。他们皮肤干裂，却只得如此。年年都是这么过来的，又有什么好抱怨的。没有谁说话，炭火噼啪的声音在室内尤为清晰。他们心里都在想着一件事。真为那位名为椒图的少女高兴。她住在主院里，不用他们担心冻着。

那个温泉，其实川主去争取过。他去求过鬼王，但并没有得到答复。鬼王把所有自由的时间全耗在那温泉里。他浸在水中，看着池边一颗小小的枫树。那棵枫树很是奇怪，无论什么季节永远是一片火红。川主和他说了很多，他脑袋一点一点的，不知是听到还是没听到。他让痛苦的沉默蔓延着，到底什么也没说，只是将树上掉下的一片叶子交给了蓝肤的水妖。从此，川主再也没问过。

红蓝双色的妖怪在房里找到了一件镶貂的蓝袍子。他疑惑了一下，才反应过来。已经很久没有人见到川主穿这件衣服，两面的大妖也很久没有扛起他的神力沙袋。

他朝窗外看去。水妖穿着洗白了的短衣，散着发，和帚神一起把院子里的雪扫到一边去了。他看着脚边装树叶杂物的袋子，悲喜不辨的笑了笑。

过年了。

町中正值美食祭，好吃的东西出乎意料的便宜。北院的大妖典当了他们的宝贝换了不少银两分发下去，让大家好好吃上一顿。鱼头僧人适才领了大家出去。他们从仓库回来，坐在院前的台阶上。

“荒川啊。”  
“嗯。”  
“我们没有被忘掉。”  
“我知道。”

寮院里又沉寂下来，只能听见呼啸的风声。荒川仰着头，雪花飘落在他额间淡的都快消失的妖纹上。

“阿佛啊。”  
“嗯。”  
“这个院子还需要我们。”  
“我知道。”

这时候要是有酒就好了。

阴阳师出乎意料的来到这个院子。  
“我很喜欢一目连。”阴阳师说。  
“好。”他们说。

开春，雪化了。  
寮里的寂静依然未被打破。日子如常，只是仓库里再不会凭空多出觉醒材料。


	3. 【阴阳师】酒会

下午三时，阳光不再似正午时灼烈，隐隐有了盛势不再的意思。隆冬三月，不少式神借着正午的阳光到庭院里来贪些温暖，待一点一过便散去了。这时还留在院子里的只有荒川。荒川河年年封冻，川主习惯了严寒，便不觉得这平安京的冬天如何难熬，只觉得下午阳光晒着温暖惬意。他盘腿坐在樱花树下，阳光透过枝丫落在他脸上发上。他半阖着眼睛，却一丝睡意也无。

相反的，他心里有些不舒服。也不知道为什么，但似乎是从他不小心看见寮主落在门外的一本册子后，就开始了。

说起寮主，荒川展开折扇遮住半张脸，心下算着时间。寮主这时候也该回来了。

木门开启，娇小的寮主如往日一般活泼。

“荒！到了！过来呀，” 她回头喊着。

荒川心下诧异，寮主何时这样称呼过他。只是诧异归诧异，他还是恭恭敬敬到她面前行礼。

“欢迎回家，寮主大人。”

“嗯嗯，好...”

寮主说到一半才回过神来，看向荒川。

“啊，我不是跟你说话啦。是他。”

寮主带着弹跳的劲儿转过身，跑去扯着一个陌生式神的袖子。

“他叫荒哦，怎么样，帅气吧。”她笑着，眼里高兴的像是有星光闪烁。

荒川抿了抿唇，拿起扇子遮住了半边脸。他在这寮里和雪女三尾狐是同辈，跟的她时间很长。寮主很难得这样高兴。他默默点了点头，退回樱花树下坐下，再没言语。

寮主领着荒越走越远，往主屋去了。她的笑容在这冬日里明媚的如一缕春光，潋滟而美好。

荒川喜欢看她笑，这回却不知道为什么，心里郁结的喘不上气。他不明白。或许是因为荒川水封冻起来了吧，每年冰封都会对他的身体有些影响的。他想起酒吞常说的，他们果真是老了。老了就是毛病多。

好冷啊。他突然打了个寒颤。阳光依然照在院子里，但似乎不起什么作用了。他慢悠悠的站起来，将折扇别在腰间。地上雪积的有脚踝深，他避开寮主的脚印往房间走。没走几步，就听见有人喊他。

“荒川！”

是酒吞。他穿着红绿相间的厚棉袄，配着一张俊脸，别提多别扭了。荒川刚想笑，却反应过来自己身上穿了件一模一样的。好个大天狗，说什么樱花祭礼物，不是看在同寮情分上早打他一顿了。

“嗯，酒鬼啊。你不是怕冷吗，怎么出来了。”

酒吞拎着酒葫芦走过来。

“我看你老半天了，一脸不高兴的。也是奇了怪了，那个小白脸最近也不怎么高兴。得了，来我这喝酒吧，他已经坐下了。不管你俩什么毛病，酒治百病，喝两杯就好了。”

荒川点点头，随他去了。

酒吞屋里炉子烧的旺，一进屋暖气扑面而来。荒川一口气没喘上来，呛的直咳嗽。大天狗也穿着红绿花袄，坐在被炉里，翅膀耷拉着，显得很没精神。

酒吞搬了几坛浆子，豪气的摆在桌上。

“来来来，对坛吹吧。这可是大爷我亲手酿的酒，也就你们喝的着了。”

大天狗嗯了一声，开了坛就灌。酒吞看他爽快，心里高兴，也兀自喝了。荒川眯着眼睛，觉得大天狗不对劲。他平时不是满口大义，无论什么事都打不垮他的吗，今天是遇上什么了，变成这副半死不活的德行。

“大天狗，我觉得我们得谈谈。”

大天狗怔了一下，放下酒坛。在他印象里，荒川已经多年没叫过他大名了。

“怎么？”

“我看你半死不活，有点在意。”

酒吞闻言也放下酒坛。

“我也正奇怪呢。”

大天狗从包里拽出一盒和菓子，扔一颗进嘴里嚼吧嚼吧。

好啊你个大狗子，荒川心里想着，怪不得我每次做了点心总会少，原来是喂了你了。

“也没什么，就是郁闷嘛。”

他端起酒坛子，又灌了一口。

“前两天我捡到一本本子，里面画了些奇奇怪怪的图，我看不懂。为了大义我怎么能不求甚解呢，于是就去问了隔壁见闻广博的青行灯。”

酒吞点点头，不管荒川杀人般的目光，也抓起一枚团子吞下。

“扯上青行灯准没好事，本大爷清楚得很。想当年大爷我追红叶的时候，青行灯她就...”

“闭嘴，我的大义还没有讲完。”狗子就着酒又开始嚼吧嚼吧。荒川往被炉里缩了缩。

“听她讲完，我如遭雷劈啊。没想到画这本子的人心理竟如此奇怪，我真想代表大义消灭她。”

荒川来了兴趣。

“哟，怎么了，还有比你大狗子思想更奇怪的人？”

酒吞咂咂嘴，一脸看好戏的模样。荒川看他一脸坏笑，猜着他一定知道些什么。

“那里面画的是我和妖狐，还有茨木，还有...”大天狗顿了顿，指着荒川，“还有你。”

川主酒呛在喉咙里，脸都憋紫了。酒吞躺在地上哈哈大笑，过了一两分钟才爬起来。

“哎呀，有意思，你继续说。”

真是看戏不怕台高。

“看完那些我整个人都不好了，感觉毛脱的都比以前频繁。没了羽毛，我还如何行使大义？”

荒川缓过劲来，嗤笑一声。

“小白脸儿也怕秃啦。酒鬼，我们老年人集团要欢迎新成员了”

“去去去，说了我的大义还没讲完呢。”

狗子瞪他俩一眼，继续说道：“我将那本子放回原处的时候，瞧见了另一本。”

“然后你就看了？”酒吞对着大天狗笑嘻嘻。

“其实你也看了。”荒川对着酒吞笑眯眯。

“我们都中招了。”大天狗捂着脸哭唧唧。

酒吞一口气喝干了一坛酒，抹了抹嘴。

“来，难兄难弟啊，讲讲你看完作何感想吧。我倒是没看见画本，但文本看见了。全是关于我和...的奇怪故事。”

荒川抽出折扇遮住脸。“我也没见着画本，文本吗...和酒鬼一样，全是关于自己和其他什么男式神的...”

狗子脸都气的扭曲了。

“那凭什么我要遭这图文并茂的罪啊？！这不大义，这很不大义！我和雪女很有意见！”

“大爷我和红叶也很有...”看见荒川酸溜溜的目光，鬼王憋着笑改了口，“欸小白脸，咱要关爱单身水妖。不过荒川，你在本子里不是有丈夫有媳妇的吗，怎么不高兴呢。”

荒川开了坛新酒，龇牙咧嘴。

“汝高兴个球，没看见吾辈被写成了什么样啊。就拿吾和那个人气颇高的风神来说吧，篇篇吾都是蛮不讲理，生性刻薄无情。还有的说吾发水弄瞎了他一只眼，或者干脆把吾写成个陈年醋缸子。”

酒吞笑成了猫嘴。

“果然是急眼了，吾都冒出来了。荒川，要与时俱进，自称要改。不过...”鬼王脸一沉，“我家媳妇经常和我讲些这种东西，你那种形象以阴阳师的话来讲，似乎叫醋王霸道总裁。”

大天狗吃完了一盒甜点，摸摸肚子。

“话说回来，单身一辈子的水里的妖怪，身上都冷冰冰的，你知道吃醋是什么吗。”

荒川心一横，拔下大天狗一根羽毛，疼得他哇的一声跳起来，差点打翻桌子。

“荒川你干嘛！”

“我打你啊。”

“哟小白脸，差点打翻老子的酒，也是皮痒痒。不过荒川已经打了你了，我嘛，就看在你们心情不好深受本本之扰的份上，也说说我的遭遇让你们乐呵乐呵。”

说罢，鬼王装模作样的清清嗓子。

“我嘛，因为长的帅，有是鬼王，有钱有势，想和我在一起的式神就海了去了。”

不知道是谁追媳妇追的哭天抢地借酒消愁的，大天狗腹诽。

“我那本本子里，一半都是我和茨木。我嘛，被写的心狠又不讲情分，冷的跟这冬天似的。不少写着我对茨木怎么怎么不好，说我心里啥都没有。笑话，我心里满满的都是红叶，我追她的时候，啧啧，那么热情，怎么就落得一个凉薄的名声了。还有，我怎么可能对茨木不好，丫是我的大将，又不傻，我对他不好他能服我嘛。话说回来，我那种形象，应该叫什么...渣男。”

炉火低了下去，大天狗喂了那火苗几根木柴。

“听你们说的，似乎你们的形象虽然让人无法接受，但已经固定了下来。我的本本里啊，我的形象似乎变化很大。比如，和妖狐在一起时，文里的我似乎智商都低了。”

“你智商本来就不高。”酒吞荒川异口同声。

大天狗没理他们，继续讲道：‘’我不让人看他，不让人欺负他，他说一句话就跟圣旨似的，又宠又爱又甜言蜜语，为搏他一笑动不动出手伤人...这哪里像我了，我一心向着大义，紧紧跟随着雪女的步伐，奔向大义！咳咳，扯偏了。”

他喝一口酒润润嗓子，继续说。

“还有写我和茨木在一起的，那时候文里的我...性格别别扭扭口是心非，看着我烦躁的很。哎呀，我那本本里配对杂七杂八的，把我当万金油样用。搞得好像我谁都能上一样。那本子里的我和我唯一相符的应该只有我帅气的脸了。”

荒川吃掉从大天狗盒子里抢救下的唯一一个菓子。

“还有神奇的品味。哎，听你这么一说还真有点心疼你。当然也心疼妖狐和茨木。一个喜欢未成年少女每天被姑姑盯梢，一个喜欢萤草...不知道在这些异想天开的故事里怎么这么惨，和你配在一起了。”

大天狗无视了荒川大部分话。

“你心疼我是应该的，你是不知道我看见文里面描写我和他们做一些我只跟雪女做的事的时候有多胃疼。我毛都快被气的掉光了，帚神那哀怨的眼神还历历在目呢。”

酒吞哈哈大笑起来。

“哦，原来你和我一样介意啊。刚看完那邪恶的本子...本大爷都不知道怎么面对红叶了。虽然老子永远不会做这些事，但是莫名其妙的觉得对不起她。然而...”鬼王挑起眉骨。

“荒川，你应该没那么大反应。毕竟，你还在和右手过日子呢。”

荒川喝干一坛酒，重重放下坛子。

“我呸。我宁愿这样一辈子也不要...太可怕了。但是，我可是比你们幸运。万年单身负责看家的我也有翻身的一天。”

“怎么？”大天狗撑着头饶有兴致。

“我在阴阳师中人气向来低迷。现在平安京来了个新式神，能打八下，名字与我的颇为相像，长相嘛，和这小白脸一般俊朗。我想着，所有带荒字的配对都可以换人了，真是天大的好事。还是老年人安静的生活适合我啊。”

鬼王拍案而起。

“哎哟，不公平啊。为什么没个什么吞佛童子之类的来替代我啊！荒川你这回真是...不羡慕不行。”

“我倒是有点担心。”大天狗低下头喃喃，“听你这么说，他又厉害，长得又帅，难不成又要和在阴阳师臆想世界里的我凑一对啊。”

酒吞严肃起来。

“大天狗你还是年轻。他又厉害，长得又帅，一定会被重点培养。荒川和我闲下来很久了倒是不怕，倒是你，要小心啊。”

大天狗摆摆手。

“不怕，寮主如此宠信我，不会有事的。”

一时间没有谁说话，只听见炭盆噼啪。屋外，似乎渐渐热闹起来。

三人起身，推门出去。

 

庭院里聚满了式神。寮主站在圈子中间，身边站着一个穿红黑袍子带着条龙的陌生式神。

“是他吗？”酒吞低声问。

荒川点了点头，展开折扇遮住脸。

大天狗翅膀轻轻扇动，手在袖子里握成拳头。

寮主眼里依旧有着闪耀的星光，显然兴奋的不行。

‘’这里是荒，大家新的同伴，要好好对他哦！”

式神间像炸开了锅，窃窃私语着，只是没人上去问候那个荒。荒也不甚在乎，冷着脸就那么看着。

“那个臭屁的态度，看着怎么那么像你呢。”大天狗嘲弄的对荒川笑笑。

“不要觉得我和他名字像就一定要扯上什么关系好吗。你这思维，和那些写本子的阴阳师有什么区别。上进点，想想你的大义吧。”荒川怼回去。

“哎呀，忘了说了，他只要有鬼火，最多能打八下呢！可以放倒对面血最多的那个呢！”

突然间，只听一阵嚎啕大哭。座敷童子抱着姑获鸟，哭得像是天塌下来了。姑姑用双翅膀环住面无血色的座敷，悄声哄着。

寮主一时间有些尴尬，但不一会儿那股子兴奋劲儿又回来了。

“大狗子你过来一下呀。”她甜甜的唤着，招了招手。

她在狗子耳边说了什么，突然间他双翼上黑羽炸起。他沉着一张脸回到二妖身边。

“怎么了？”荒川将手搭在他肩上。

“她叫我收拾房间。她让我把我主楼正中的房间让给他。”

酒吞默默无语，只能拍拍他的脊背。

“我错了。之前为了看的那些无关紧要的东西生气难过，不曾想，现实更加不堪。”

大天狗的翅膀垂了下来。

“你也不要心灰意冷。事情总是有转机的。”酒吞从腰间摸出酒葫芦递给大天狗。“来，喝一口吧。”

他接过酒葫芦。“我也为荒川难过。他本来不高的人气怕是又要被削，而且...连名字也...”

“我都不介意，你介意什么呢。”荒川平板的回答。

他其实心里清楚，他还是介意的。他从看见那个新式神走进来，心里不对劲的时候就明白了，他其实很介意。为什么他说不清楚，但就是心里闷的难受。什么荒川冰封，都是自己骗自己的。那种堵了棉花似的憋屈，连这隆冬的寒气都祛除不了。

“啊，还有还有，明天我还要接一个新同伴回来哦，大家好好期待着吧！”寮主动听的声音此时显得分外刺耳。

太阳低了下去，院子里越来越冷。寮主又说了几句就走了，式神们也散去了。昏黄的暮光洒满庭院，本应该是暖暖的黄色却因为天边夕阳殷红如血而显得异常萧索。院子里空空荡荡，一个人都没有了。

 

翌日，酒吞醒来。清晨惨白的天上有一片浓艳的火烧云，好似被撕了一个鲜血淋漓的大口子。他穿好衣裳，在院子里走了一圈。平日这个时候荒川早醒了，现在应该坐在樱花树下。酒吞走过去，却没见到他。外面天冷，酒吞很快便回去了。

房门上钉了一封信。

鬼王拆开一看，忙叫来大天狗。

信上书：

致吾友大天狗与酒吞童子：

吾将远行。夜半寮主到访，命吾即刻启行，但因尚有二三心事未了，特留此信，求二位代为达成。时间仓促，言辞不妥之处请莫怪罪。

今将远行，吾极不舍。只是寮主急欲接回另一新妖，吾天数已尽，只得说些肺腑之言，将后事相托。

且记初到寮中之时，身边无人，寮主尚且青涩。寮主天资聪颖，又勤学苦练，便步步高升，吾亦有幸承蒙关照，得达力量之巅。时过境迁，君等到来，吾得二位友谊，只觉三生有幸。

式神来去，不乏有大能耐者讨得寮主欢心，将吾替下。此后虽少见得寮主之面，但吾乐得清闲，倒也无妨。见二位地位尚且稳固，吾心甚安，吾心甚喜。

吾资历最久，奈何出阵次数寥寥，并未积攒任何珍宝。囊中之物寒碜，却还望留下些许，免些遗憾。

吾来之时，收寮主一百勾玉。勾玉置于床头柜中，二位请各接一半。数目虽小，还勿嫌弃。吾历练之时修得六枚妖核，二位亦请收下，噬之可增气力。

吾之蓝袍靴冠，请赠海僧。吾知坊主修得俊俏人身，却无厚礼以相贺。心思吾之锦袍入水不湿，适其水性，便托二位相赠以示心意。

尚有珍珠黑白各一壶，分赠与二位夫人。雪女喜白，红叶喜黑，如此正好。

吾之新衣，可售于市。换得银两，替吾多谢帚神。

吾六块御魂之宝锁在箱中，开吾房门便见得。请二位将其还于寮主。

吾自知言多，然再难克制，唠叨言语还请二位忍耐。

虽从未言明，但二位于吾乃是生死之交，最为情投意合之挚友。吾心中，最珍重的即是二位。平日甚觉此话矫情，君等亦不喜如此话语，然今日不言便再无来日，此话不出吾心有憾。

听闻吾同族进来气力倍增，召唤黑水大鱼刚劲猛健。先前吾族力量被贬孱弱，今来骤强，又被白眼以待。吾哀吾族不幸。

吾最为不舍的还是椒图。吾于川畔寻得椒图，怜其不幸，又喜其性情，便收为义妹。椒图性怯，难开心扉，如今认吾为兄，如此信任于吾，吾怎舍得…其主曾弃之，吾今身死，亦算弃之，实在不知如何补偿。吾不能伴其左右，心中不甘之极，而今生死相隔，无可奈何。思来想去，椒图好女，需一人相护。二位若察觉吾妹有情投意和之妖，必定帮忙促成婚事。在此之前，求二位代为照顾。

寮主晨归之时，定带回一新妖。似是一竹妖，与辉夜姬颇有渊源。

不曾想暮时尚且把酒言欢，夕时便别离。

吾此行不还，魂魄已散。  
请君勿念。

荒川之主上。


	4. 【看啊！我曾经的语法错误！】A Summer Valley

A Summer Valley

“Let me tell you a secret,” Aloise whispered.   
“Do you know, once upon a time there was a season called Winter,” she blinked her eyes, trying to form a scene in her head.  
“It was cold, and shiny flakes fall from the sky. Yes, bright and beautiful, like the crystals they sell in the Desert. My great grandma had seen it, but the world got warmer and warmer, and it was gone. I wish I can see it too, just like I wish you can reply to me.” She was talking to a rock in a shape of a giant skull.  
The rock has three big holes, two that looked like eye-sockets, one seemed to be a screaming mouth. There was no light in the two stone eyes. Aloise put her little hands on the huge rock she sat by and set her face upon the back of her hands. She closed her eyes and felt the roughness of the rock and the warmth the sun had baked into it.  
Maybe the warmth did not come from the sun. Aloise smiled at this thought.  
Aloise was a sweet child with the beauty of summer. Brown hair, tanned skin, slim stature. She seemed like a little ant, vulnerable and invisible when sitting by that curiously shaped rock beside her.  
“How I wish you can talk to me. I have no friends.”  
She sat by this rock all day long, day after day. This may seem a little odd at first, but not to Aloise, because she knew another secret.  
Her great grandma was her hero, and the secret came from her. On her deathbed, she gave Aloise a blue scarf, beautiful as the broken ice on a glacier she once described to her. She told Aloise a secret with her last breath, and Aloise never forgot the gleaming look in her eyes.  
“I knew an Ice Giant when I was your age.” Her great grandma did not finish the story. The light dimmed in her eyes as she is about to say the Giant’s name.  
But there were Giants. Aloise knew.   
She found her own Stone Giant. She sat by his head, talked to him, trying to wake him up. But he did not speak, not even once. She had seen her great grandma die, yet she was too young to understand it.  
Sometimes Aloise did leave her Giant, but she had nowhere to be and no one to spend time with. She had no friends.  
Aloise’s home was in a curious place — a steep Valley, where people were all farmers. Two great kingdoms were on the two sides of the Valley. One was called Clouds; it was a world of endless black rain. The other was called Desert; it was precisely a desert where nothing lived in the wild. The two kingdoms were very, very rich.  
The world did not know what seasons were. There was only summer.  
“I am so lonely,” Aloise whispered again while she stared blankly at the patterns in the stone.  
Human beings were adapted to the peculiar climate of the kingdom they lived in, and the cultures were drastically different. She lived in the middle, fit into none. Still, Aloise tried to make friends, but the weather of the highlands caused her great pain. She could only talk to children on the border, and they all seemed to be alone. No one talked a lot to Aloise; no one appeared to want to talk to anyone. Both the Cloudlings and the Desertlings seemed to not care about having friends. It wasn’t like this back in her great grandma’s time. Maybe the world had changed, Aloise thought vaguely.   
Aloise was truly lonely indeed. Her only comfort was talking to her Giant, and looking at the beautiful scenery of her Valley. But the Giant never said a word, and her Valley was changing.  
It was changing rapidly.  
Aloise paid no attention to it at first. She realized that the mouth of her Giant was used as a storage room. No wonder he couldn’t talk, she thought to herself. I should clean it up. And under all the messiness Aloise found a notebook belonged to her great grandma.  
The book was blank, with only a few lines of writing.  
“Giants were spirits of the land. The love people gave to the earth kept them alive—Hibernis.”  
That was the main writing on the page. Under it was a tiny footnote.  
“They murdered them, and I killed him.”  
It was written by her great grandma, Aloise knew.  
So Hibernis was the Ice Giant. He died, just like her Stone Giant. They left the world, just like winter has left.  
But why? Why couldn't she wake her Giant? She loved her Valley, and she loved the crops grown out of it, she loved everything that was living. But why couldn't she?  
She did not know.  
Aloise sighed. It started raining outside.  
Not the colourless, tasteless rain that she was familiar with. The rain was black, like the sky, and it gave out an uncomfortable smell. This had happened more and more often, Aloise suddenly realized. The cloud above the Valley and the rivers that ran through it became greyer every day. She didn’t like it. Every drop of the black rain ate away a little of her Giant’s body.  
Then she remembered the Head of the Valley once held a meeting. He was unhappy about the Valley-dwellers that kept on farming. It was maybe because the two kingdoms on the Highland were very wealthy, and farming did not earn them much.  
From the children she talked to, Aloise not only knew they were rich, she also knew why. Cloudlings told Aloise that Clouds was full of factories, they made everything the world needed, and the black rain was from the black smoke and the black river. They did not stay long, but put on their masks and left. One particular kind girl explained to Aloise that the masks were necessary for them to breathe. The air in Clouds could burn the lungs into ashes, but still, no Cloudlings thought their climate was odd.  
Aloise also talked to Desertlings. They sell everything that can be dug up from the ground. Gems, fuel, anything. They were expensive, as the children told Aloise. They sold them to Clouds, and Clouds made things out of it. Desertlings were not worried about the source of their wealth drying up. They did not think about it at all. Their whole kingdom was built in a gigantic hole, dug up by men. They processed the valuables they dug up in the wild fields. Desert also produced electricity with a mysterious way Aloise did not understand. Stations were built in the wild fields as well. One boy told her that back in the days something happened to one of them. No more wildlife existed after that. No Desertlings seemed to notice it, or if they did, they did not care.  
Aloise recalled the Head talking about starting to do the same thing in the Valley and making them rich too. Aloise did not understand it at the time, but now she thought it must have been a bad idea. She would not trade her beautiful summer flowers and butterflies for a so-called better life that she had never known.   
“Maybe they could do it in another way, not causing black rain to fall or flowers to die.” Aloise murmured to herself.   
“I should go out and see what was happening in the Valley.”  
She hesitated a little, but still grabbed her umbrella and went toward the Village. She did not forget, of course, to say goodbye to her Giant.   
Aloise was shocked and horrified by what she saw. The lake in the middle of the Valley was one of the most beautiful places that Aloise knew. It was clear blue, with birds floating on it. But it disappeared.   
What took its place was a den of colourful, sticky liquid. On the side of the pool stood the tallest building she had ever seen. It was an enormous, pale monster, with seven chimneys. The foul breath of the terrifying beast went out of its seven noses and into the air. A grey cloud formed above its head. People walked in and out of its mouth, in between doors made from steel bars, which troublingly resembled teeth. Aloise recognized some of them. They used to work in the fields next to her house.  
She did not greet them but ran forth. She saw more smoke-breathing monsters. She also saw monsters half-buried in big holes in the ground, digging.   
So the Valley-dwellers took both things from both sides. Aloise started to tear up a little, but she did not know why.  
She found out why soon afterward. The sky was covered with clouds same coloured like the clouds from Clouds, and no sunlight was let through. Under the gloomy sky was an army of foul-smelling factory monsters. They had already taken up the northern half of the Valley, and they were craving for the other.   
Aloise couldn't think anymore. She did not want flowers or birds or butterflies or clear lakes to be taken from her. She was not ready for it. She did not want her Valley to become a place no longer beautiful, no longer could people live happily and healthily. Most of all, she couldn't imagine what would happen to her Giant. Is he going to be cut into pieces and be used to build more factories? No!   
She couldn’t let it happen.   
Aloise used all her strength to run back to her Giant. The black rain stopped.   
“I am going to call you Hibernis...That’s the only Giant name I know.”  
She spread her arms and hugged the hard rock. It was still warm.  
“I don’t want my Valley to be like this...It’s so...so...so…”  
Her words were cut off by a sob.  
“I wish it is how it was before. I want my winter back, and autumn, and spring. I hope I can see the world my great grandma used to see...But I can’t…”  
Aloise pressed her cheek against the rock skull.  
“Hibernis, what can I do?”  
Strangely her tears stopped. She sensed something.  
The rock was warmer than before.  
She sat up, and saw the hollow stone eyes gleaming under the summer sun.


	5. 【太法】幻痛

这水真难喝。   
大护法头痛欲裂地坐在角落里，手一抖摔了小鸣递来的水杯。   
回程路上马车颠簸，他身子一颤一颤，压到了身后的枪伤，一阵阵尖锐的痛。   
百密一疏啊，他昏昏沉沉地想着。   
错，他脑内诚实的声音反驳道，是你的傲慢自大害了自己。出来寻太子前，他在这世间行走百年不逢敌手，便以为伤痛与他无干了。既然无人能近他身，备着那么多伤药做何用处。   
到头来，他象征性带着的一小瓶全用在了更要紧的太子身上。他现在的高烧不退，怨不了别人。   
虽说不怨，难受却是实实在在的。头脑像是要烧成浆糊，身上却是冷汗淋漓，被风一吹，透骨的冷。小涅叽靠在他身边，一动不动。   
马车走得快，山风吹得急。太子贪凉，车帘卷着，风就这么肆无忌惮地刮进来。他不敢去裹紧外袍。胸腔里的断骨他除了扎紧绷带没别的办法固定，拉扯乱动是会要命的。   
他想要躺下，便费力睁开眼睛看看有没有空间。透过眼前一片的明明灭灭，他看见太子哭累了，嘴里喃喃着小姜小姜，躺在车厢正中间坦然摊开手脚，占着大半空间，凄凄惨惨地入了梦，似乎梦里还在追寻着那个逝去的可怜孩子。太子这幅惨样，看得他心里不是滋味。太子身旁小鸣一脸纯良，状似体贴地给太子扇着风，坐时却叉着腿，故意盘踞着所剩无几的空间。  
他是躺不下去了。嘶，他不甘心的想着，要不蜷缩着躺也成？   
不成。潮水般一波一波的痛苦里尚存的理智让他止住了动作。那样的话，断骨穿肺，你还有命在么？你没了命，谁送太子回去？   
是啊，没了太子，大护法又算是个什么东西呢。   
他想叹口气，却发现胸腔里如同堵了棉花一样，喘不上气来，强行大口的吸气牵动断骨，疼得他额上出了一层细汗。   
他就这样昏昏沉沉地在寒冷中坐着，听着太子不平稳的呼吸。想必他心里的痛苦胜过了自己身上的创伤吧。他想抬眼再看看他看着长大的皇家孩童，却什么都看不清楚。高烧让他糊里糊涂，耳边的风声也变成嗡鸣声，听着让人心里烦躁。   
情况越来越糟糕。路上碎石多了起来，马车的震颤终于影响到了他臀上受到压迫的枪伤。倒霉，倒霉，他感受着裤子上蔓延开来血的濡湿感，感觉一阵心堵。这就是不好好处理的下场，他反省着。子弹取出来了，却因为位置特殊无法自己缝合，又不可能让太子代劳，加之没有止血药，最后只能草草包起来。现在这般光景伤口不裂开才叫怪呢。   
难熬啊难熬。什么时候才到王都啊？他在脑子里咕哝着，不自觉的自怨自艾起来。王都，王都和马车有差别吗？他独居一人，还不是要自己照顾自己。   
他当然必须照顾自己。大护法是有主侍奉的人，是听命行事的人。他几百年的生命属于皇家，他存在的意义是照顾太子，保护太子……  
车轮压过石头，车厢猛的一摇。大护法只觉得脑子里回响着巨人鸣鼓似的噪音，顿时一阵眩晕，意识涣散。   
就在这心志不坚的一秒，被他深锁起的软弱愤然挣脱锁链，爬到他耳边低语。你想想啊，大护法，如果你也有个谁能偶尔问问你冷不冷，饿不饿，疼不疼……  
住嘴！他听见软弱的心声被另一个自己的声音吼着打断。死胖子，你狂得过分了。贪嘴就算了，还学会贪心了？你怎么不想想，你比旁人多活了多少年岁？你占了一身好本事，声名显赫。吃着稳定的俸禄，你还想怎么样？有一只鸟陪你算是便宜了你，这世间的好处你还想占尽了？   
不……不……他否认着。他从没这么想过，没有……   
他猛烈的咳嗽起来，满嘴是血。下意识的想吐，却突然想起太子最憎恶血腥的味道，便生生将污血咽了下去。   
太子还在哭着。小姜啊小姜，他念。他心里只记着小姜的离去，再装不下什么别的了。   
他从逃出来后就没完没了的哀悼着，不怎么吃东西，睡也不安稳，人都瘦了一大截。护法看着，深深觉得没照顾好这孩子。   
他陷在剜心的愧疚中，再感觉不到身上的痛。太子在睡梦中挣扎，突然间一脚踢在他腰侧，他却毫无反应。  
痛着痛着，也就麻木了。他之前也不是没这么痛过，还胡思乱想呢，矫情个什么劲。他自我唾弃着，咽下喉咙里涌上的污血。  
太子在他的保护下长大，他小心翼翼地保太子平安顺遂，却不想在这花生镇失了手。   
太子见了血，破了梦，终究是变不回原本纯白的太子了。他受了痛，学了爱，明白了保护，最后也经历了失去和死亡的恐怖。   
大护法很难过。   
他还记得太子不顾他死活叫他追出去的那一刻。那个刹那间，他听见一个震耳欲聋的声音在嘲笑他。   
你看看，你看看，看看你有多失败。这就是你从小带大的孩子啊！你不是要让他的心纯净下去吗？可惜，你没保护好他。你跋山涉水来找他，哈哈哈，他可曾听过你的话，念过你的好？你这个没心肝的怪物，让这本来好端端的孩子也没了良心，本来是纯白的孩子，现在也染上了鲜血和仇恨的颜色。   
他想要反驳，说太子不顾一个护卫有什么奇怪。他记挂着更重要的友谊，记挂着更重要的人，有什么不可以吗？   
这恰好证明太子还是个纯洁善良的孩子啊！他脑内声嘶力竭的大吼着，孩子不都是这样的吗？  
他们在乎自己在乎的东西，没有半分虚假，没有半分做作。   
不在乎就是不在乎。他不会假装的。   
他们听从自己的心声，跟随自己的灵魂，保护自己觉得重要的事物。他们的眼睛是向内看的，满眼的自己，满眼自己的心愿。   
旁人向来是和孩子无关的。   
而大护法，守着皇家五代人，看了几百年风雨，却终归是个旁人，旁观者，保护者，一个不相干的人罢了。   
这就是孩子明白的心。分外单纯，分外洁白，没有粉饰。他们心中所念，清清楚楚。   
心里嘲弄他的恶毒声音被压下来，却还哼哼唧唧的不肯离去。那个声音像附骨之蛆，钻进他心窝里，爬进他耳朵里。它在低语的同时狠狠咬在他心尖上。   
你怎么肯承认，孩子天性中的坦诚和没心没肺最是伤人呢？你怎么不敢承认，他单纯而无意的淡漠像刀子一样割伤着你呢？   
啊，我忘了，是因为你是个没心肝的怪物，是个冷面冷血，丧失了感情只知道杀人的屠夫。血肉横飞的，不懂得文静点。   
大护法费力的摇头，试着甩开着粘稠的声音。但是他不能，因为那声音分明是他自己的。   
废物，你连自己的心都正视不了。   
呸！   
他终于将一口污血吐出来。  
都是蠢话，是蠢话。他不听，也不信。   
他固执的告诉自己，太子还是那个孩子，一个好孩子。  
他看着熟睡的太子，眼前浮现太子童年时一声声叫着他护法哥哥情形来。  
他不承认太子到底是不一样了。  
小姜死了。太子最美好的天真和对世界的信任跟着死了。   
太子对大护法的信任，说不定也碎成了一地残渣。说好的护他周全呢？他没做到。太子是活了下来，可小姜，太子交托了部分灵魂的小姜啊，他却没保住。   
太子翻了个身，泪水滑落在那块蓝盈盈的石头上。   
小姜啊小姜。   
他翻来覆去，嘴里不停的念着小姜。   
小姜啊小姜。   
他这个模样，和小时候丢了一张最喜欢的画一模一样。终归是个孩子，无遮无拦，坦坦荡荡。  
笑也笑得灿烂，哭也哭得毫不压抑收敛。   
多好啊。他虽然痛苦，但还不至于支离破碎。   
太子还是个孩子，他清醒地告诉自己。   
孩子啊，伤得再深，也好的快。虽然伤疤是去不掉的，但是与其说是一辈子的痛，孩子的伤更多是一堂课，一个道理。   
小姜也一样。   
而他自己呢，活了几百年，痛彻心扉少了，只会麻木的钝痛，一点点的，缠缠绵绵挥之不去。   
他忍着头疼胸腔的疼和枪伤的疼，忍着全身冷汗和血的粘腻，紧紧握着乌钢杖。   
陛下，我把太子送回来了。   
我是堂堂奕卫国的大护法。   
他这样默默的想着，透过眼前乌压压的影子看向他豁出命去保护的责任。   
无论如何，太子最重要。   
太子睡着，似乎不做梦了。他陷在悲伤的漩涡中，手紧紧抓着那块蓝石头，像是绝望的孩子抓着最后的一点依靠。   
护法叹息。他虽然没护得太子周全，却还算是堪堪保住了他的姓名。   
天知道他多想让太子永远是个孩子。   
他还是个孩子。  
但他走上了长大的路，一去不还了。   
小姜啊小姜。   
太子的梦里心里只记得这一个名字。   
这名字证明着，至少在这一刻，   
太子还是个无忌的孩子。   
大护法闭上眼睛，渐渐没了声息。   
这是他几百年来第一次心凉得如此欣慰。


	6. 【太法】醒时甜

这一个月以来他反反复复地病着，体温时高时低，就是不见好，房里弥漫着一股疾病湿热甜腻的味道。   
有些人的有些病是好不了的，他已经不抱希望。   
一回到裴定，他的身子立时就垮了。才把太子送进东宫大门，转身欲走，脚还不曾抬起便摔在门槛上。幸好被扶住，不然他那十一根断骨还不知会如何。   
真是多年不曾那么失态过。   
他醒来时躺在宫墙外的太医院。见不着自己房里熟悉的陈设，他心里发慌，如同少了乌钢杖一般没底。他不见太医的影子，也不见小涅叽，只有一个学徒照看他。   
他是被扶住他的普通侍卫抱来的。太医院不识得他是谁，那个侍卫好说歹说表示他和太子有牵连，才勉勉强强让大护法进门来。   
学徒撑着脸，打着哈欠。护法张张嘴想要水，那学徒却别过脸去像是没看见。   
护法笑笑，也不怪他。   
大护法声名远扬，却少有人见过他的模样。就算他日日守护太子，大多数时候也是悄悄跟着，并不露面。   
宫内人大多不认得他，更何况宫外的太医院呢。   
他们不认得他的脸，他身上又没有官印腰牌一类能证明身份的东西，瞧他一身沾满血污的破烂红袍，再加上一张胖嘟嘟的孩童面貌，想想都觉得他就是个无关紧要的毛孩子。   
他们怎么不想想，一个脏兮兮的孩子怎么进得宫去，一个孩子怎么会背着一根铁杖，一个孩子是怎么受得这么重的伤。   
他们不是不去想，护法心里念着，是不在乎。闲杂人等死了就死了，有谁管。   
他试着列举出或许会来看他的人的姓名，但是脑内的嗡鸣让他聚不起丝毫思绪。   
他就这么被晾了两天。伤口发了炎，断骨错了位，没人理他。他烧的天昏地暗，整个人焦渴难耐却偏生醒不过来。   
好痛啊，他在睡梦中一遍一遍的重复着。   
好痛啊。   
他没有做噩梦，只是单纯的陷在黑暗里，身上汗透衣衫。   
他感觉自己气数将尽。   
罢了罢了，太子回了宫，除了小涅叽他舍不得离开以外也没什么值得挂念的。几百年了，该休息了。就这样睡着，也没什么不好……  
而事不遂人愿。   
额头上清凉的感觉把他从混沌中唤醒。  
他还是在太医院，只不过换了间房，被褥也不再是潮湿发霉的烂棉花。学徒不见了，看着他的变成主事的院判。  
想来是陛下处理完太子的事，终于注意到他不见了。   
两天时间，不长不短。不奇怪，不奇怪。  
太子金贵，平日小病小灾只需待在东宫等人来，哪里知道医治要去什么地方。而陛下，陛下从未想过他会出事，只是以为他旅途劳累在休憩，便没去打扰。  
谁知道他躺在太医院又湿又冷的角落和地板一起发霉腐烂呢。   
到头来，还要感谢那个不知名的护卫。他在御花园当班，恰巧遇到陛下心情好与他说话。   
陛下，那个护卫低着头说，近来周围不安全，宫里人出访请多加小心。两日前有个半死不活的红袍少年跟着太子进来，血淋淋的。   
他如今处境的好转全仰仗那无意的一丝善念。   
小涅叽从窗外飞进来，嘴里叼着根开着花的树枝。   
他想笑笑来表达心里的安慰，却笑不出来。   
枪伤发炎化脓，一阵阵酸楚的肿痛。他费力的听见太医嗡嗡的声音，好像说是他肋骨不曾固定好，愈合时长歪了，需要断开重接。   
护法白眼一翻。   
他是欠了这皇家多少债。   
小涅叽蹦着将树枝放进他嘴里。护法叹口气，闭上眼睛，咬住口中的木头。   
真是人不如鸟来的好。   
突然间他很心疼。这可怜的小鸟，跟着他风雨飘摇地在这世间乱跑吃尽苦头。他那么小的一丁点，不该受这些罪。   
护法全然忘了他自己也是小小的一幅少年模样。   
他不记得骨头是怎么接上的。他只是觉得渴，胃里烧的难受，身上一时冷一时热。   
他在床上烂了一个月。大部分时间他是没有意识的。偶尔在擦身的时候他会被疼醒，然后又陷入混沌。   
时间转眼过去，他的身子却依然垮着。何时好的这么慢了。以前出这种事不出半月他就能像没事人一样。   
到底是老了，他尝试说服自己，可惜失败了。   
他心里清楚，其实他根本不想好起来。   
找借口不过是为了掩盖不敢正视真相的懦弱。   
这一天他悠悠醒转，发现乌钢杖不在怀里。   
护法透过让他昏聩的疼痛意识到自己保命的资本不见了，耳边似乎也没有小涅叽酷似死肥仔的叫声。他打了个寒战，恐慌涌上心尖。   
先前的自暴自弃暂时离他而去了。他满脑子里都是一个可怕的念头：   
万一有人趁虚而入行刺太子……  
他不敢往下想。   
他倒是不怕走漏了护法不在的风声。  
太子身边有个假扮的在，可他保护不了太子。万一被得手，那就覆水难收了。   
真麻烦啊……  
那个替身虽然不受他待见，却也有存在的必要。大护法这个符号必须被亮出来起震慑作用。他是安全的象征，保护的象征，他不会伤不会病不会死，永远可靠。他永远在场。他的存在是虚无的，像个神话一样。  
只可是他是个人啊。   
只可惜他是个人啊。   
如果他这般田地被人知道，整个王都怕是人心惶惶。   
他躺在这里，走不了路，起不来身，和风烛残年的普通老人没有区别。   
他想站起来，到太子身边去。这是陛下的嘱托和命令，先王的嘱托和命令…整整五代人，他的责任和生命的价值在于守护太子，守护皇家。   
反观他现在，动弹不得意识不清……没有了用处，活着和死了区别全无。   
他咬牙，责怪着他残破的身体。你怎么就这么不经打击呢？你好得快一点，你这个人就多有用一分。可看看你，在这里躺着做梦。   
废物。他脑子里诚实的声音反驳他。   
废物。活了几百年看不清自己的老废物。   
你就装的努力上进忠心耿耿吧。你就装啊。   
真是个连自己都骗的废物。   
他明明清楚他为什么好不了。   
作为一个符号一个工具他活够了。他不想生命的价值被用利用价值衡量。他还着欠下皇家先祖的债，但这债一代代累积，到底是还不完的。   
他眼前不见光明，已然身心俱疲。   
他好不了。不想活的人是治不好的。   
乱七八糟，乱七八糟。他自己都不知道自己在想什么。   
内心嘈杂的争执让他张开嘴想要尖叫，却感觉什么湿漉漉的东西覆在了嘴唇上。   
是沾满水的棉花。   
嘴唇上干裂的死皮被一点点平复下去，口中的焦渴渐渐消失，头疼也没有先前那么厉害了。   
“嘘，别动。好好喝水。”   
脑中所有淤积的思绪都被打散了，感觉灵魂都不如一刻之前沉重。透过眼皮，他看见隐隐的光亮。  
“张嘴，来喝水。”   
那声音无比熟悉，他却想不起来是谁。   
他想抬起沉重的眼皮看看床前坐的是哪个人。有哪个人会来这样照顾他？   
清凉的毛巾盖上了眼皮，悄悄掩藏了他无力睁眼的事实。   
“你发烧了，给你降降温。”   
是谁？到底是谁？   
他脑中有个想法，却被他毅然的否决了。  
不可能的。   
床头的人像是知道他想法一样轻声笑了。  
“你没猜错，是我，是我。我来看看你还好吗。好像不怎么好啊。竟然没有啰啰嗦嗦的说教我，这作风真不像你啊。”  
是他。他还和做太子时一样对他自称着我，好像多年的时光从没有流走过。  
每一代太子都是特别的，代代都是他拉扯大的。这第四代太子年轻的时候和现在的太子一样的顽劣，一样的爱闯祸。  
一晃，给他扫尾的日子仿佛又在眼前。   
清凉的毛巾盖在眼皮上，温柔的掩藏了他眼角的泪。   
他突然觉得自己还活着，是个真真切切的，有心脏的活物。私情和责任间的壁垒轰然倒塌，感觉竟是异样的美好。   
一时间他再不想在黑暗中永眠下去。   
“你带我长大，又带着我的儿子长大。这么多年，我却没有好好陪过你。今天就让我弥补一下，好不好？”   
护法无法言语。曾经的太子拉过他的手，将乌钢杖交还于他。   
“你昏迷的时候身体还记得不让人近前，为了不让你伤人，迫不得已才把它拿走的。现在你醒了，就还给你吧。”   
护法抱住乌钢杖，冰凉凉的，解了身上让他烦躁不安的热度。   
他的心安定下来，灵魂也安静下来，没有了争执的声音。   
“我那个傻儿子来看过你三次，次次被你皱着眉头的模样吓得够呛。我真怕你是不想回到人世间来了。还好，我一来你就醒了，果然相对我儿你还是更喜欢我。”   
护法笑出声来，感觉胸腔中的疼痛散去了大半。   
“别胡思乱想折磨自己了，快好起来吧。”   
当朝天子走出门去。   
“我盼着你好啊。”   
一周过去，他烧退了，伤也无甚大碍。一切如初，仿佛花生镇的噩梦全没发生过。   
他走在城门口长街上，闻见食物的香气。   
街口那家店叉鸡饭还是一样的好吃，门口的队伍还是一样的长。   
老板探出头来向他挥挥手，   
“哟，穿红衣服的哥仔，好久不见！”   
空气中柠檬茶的味道甜丝丝的。


	7. 【太法】点点新

他伤好后觉得一切都不一样了。世界仿佛和他一样烧得糊涂，很多事情变了又变，变得他都再也认不真切。   
他走在路上，脚步是安静的，心里也是安静的。   
他一点都不困惑。这样的感觉他经历过多次了。   
不需要挣扎，他早已任命。  
时间的轮子总是在转啊转，只是有时转的快些，有时候慢些。他烂在床上的时候窗外的人没有和他一起停下来。他们跟着轮子跑啊跑，等到他清醒的时候，他只见外面的人们已跑出远远一段距离了。  
这就是为什么如今的混沌感分外明显。  
护法心里是明白的，但他什么都没说。乌钢杖上挑了一盏灯，照着他眼前的青石路。   
秋天尽了。最后一场雨刚下过，石缝间的青苔受了雨露却依然挡不住黄去的脚步。护法踩在一个个小水洼里，沾湿了鞋面。   
极少数的时候他不念诗，也不自言自语。小涅叽安分地待在布袋里，不怎么动弹。   
没有人打破这寂静的秋夜。   
这不是一份好的寂静。   
大护法病好得突然。先皇驾崩得突然。太子登基得突然。   
轮子滚得太快，他却跟不上。他只能看着，看着而已。   
怎么非要他在一倏忽间经历两次别离呢？   
时间跑远了。天也变了。   
他自由自在顽劣任性太子回不来了。   
他纯净善良的太子回不来了。   
再也没有太子了。   
他看着一位君王的诞生。   
他从来不知道徐太子能露出如此庄重的表情，作出如此庄严的仪态。   
这是天子应有的模样。   
却是他心里最不希望见到的变化。   
每一任太子登基前他都默默许着愿，希望他们独特的自我和灵魂能多保持一秒，希望他们那一点点小爱好，无论多么不可理喻多么麻烦但终归是可爱的小私心，能多留存一秒。   
他多希望那点点童真能时不时跳出来，暖暖的，亮亮的，有着活人的色彩和温度。   
他不舍得太子登上皇位，也不舍得先帝躺入灵堂。   
转眼间，他成了一片素槁的都城里唯一一点红。   
红袍和暖灯映着，他眼角泛红。   
他鼻子发酸，他却倔强的否认着，对其不予理会。   
事情无可挽回。那冠冕有着魔咒，谁戴上了谁就不得好。权利，力量和责任会一点一点杀死他认识的太子，将那个帝王掏成和护法自己一般的空壳。   
先皇回不来了。太子也回不来了。   
然而他自己还在，百年来毫无变化。   
护法漫长的生命根据几代太子的来去被断成长长短短的碎片。他听见咔嚓一声，昨日以前的岁月和今夕终于也分了胶着。那条分割不可见，却真真实实是存在的。   
他终又是带大了一个。   
他又只有一个伴了。背后小涅叽翻了个身，又沉沉睡去。这小胖鸟，无忧无虑的，伴在不被岁月怜惜的他身边，是暖暖的可爱的一点安慰。  
他抬起头看。这天地是新的，这明月是新的，这刚落下的霜也是新的。他踩着坑坑洼洼的旧石板走在出宫的路上，将刚才登基大典哀戚中的盛大抛在身后，和着薄霜和未干的雨水踩成一团污浊。   
这深夜里，他走去寻一座酒家。   
他才以为醒着好，现在又不确定了。   
他走着，极少数的不是寻着太子，反倒是寻着酒香而去了。   
那酒家开在裴定的东城门口，何人进何人出店家看的一清二楚。太子出逃，他次次去寻，在这里问人问多了，一回生二回熟，几次来往，互相也都生出一些了解来。虽然不知道他到底是谁，但在他光顾的时候，店家总会笑眯眯的送上一盘老板娘做的炒黄豆。   
一壶温酒一碟香豆，加上店家幼子的笑声，这些是他少数除皇家事和杀人以外熟悉的东西。店里暖呼呼的气氛能让他在奔波的路上稍稍将心放一放。   
世上竟有这样的好地方，他每每这样想着。   
店里生意红红火火的，护法工作无惊无险的，就这样来来往往淡淡的交集不知不觉间已经续上了十余个年头，偶尔回想起来也突觉煞是有趣。   
如今店家夫妇生了华发，吵吵闹闹的孩子也娶了媳妇。这些年的浮光掠影被远处隐约可见的灯火和飘飘摇摇的喧闹声勾起，在眼前轻烟似的晃过。   
但他觉得有什么地方不太对劲。空气中飘来的酒味变了味道。   
不再是熟悉的温厚气息。   
他点的酒孤零零的送上来，边上的黄豆不见踪影。   
店家不见踪影。   
怎么回事呢？一月前他带太子回宫还在这停留过。店家去哪了？   
接手酒家的新掌柜满不在乎。   
“杀啦，”他说，“先皇陛下查抄一种来自边境的剧毒，结果在这厨房里找到不少。这一家人都被砍了，抛在城外岗上。怎么，你是他家亲戚？别想着收尸，一个月，早烂了。”   
护法喝下掺水的酒走出门去，冷风扑来，冻得他汗毛倒竖背心沁凉。   
太子啊太子，你看看你接手的是个什么世道。   
他想起来。   
小鸣在他们投宿的那晚不知所踪。   
他藏东西藏出了四条性命。   
太子啊太子，你看看你带回来的是个什么祸害。   
夜风恶毒的四处钻，像是尖刀一般破开他的脂肪皮肉在胸腔里刮着。   
没心情了。没心情。  
站在城外的岗上，他的灯灭了，只有乌钢杖上剩点乌沉沉的光。  
他看见死人的影子，一个一个叠在一起，看不见面容看不清身型。他们只是沉寂的一片死亡罢了。  
店家和家人一起躺在安静的死亡里，再也不受离别之苦。   
离别的记忆这种无谓的东西总是属于活着的人，留下的人，记忆长久些的人。或许还有些不幸的人罢。   
风带来争吵的声音。不知道哪里有谁闹着要离开，有谁不让走。另外一个什么地方有谁吵着不要走，又有谁推着人离开。   
护法大笑起来，丝毫不怕惊动那些残破的尸骸上附着不肯离去的幽魂。   
他对那鬼魂说，我们不是一样的么。你们的肉体死了，我只有肉体没死。   
耳边争吵不休，他不觉心烦，只觉好笑。好端端的人，吵什么吵。躺在岗上的人可是连话都说不出。你们主动选择分开，殊不知，在你跟着时间的轮子跑啊跑的时候，你身边的某些人某些东西会被悄悄带走，再不回还。你可能不曾注意，不曾在乎，但等跑远了，你连后悔都来不及。   
不回还的人太多太多。他和四任天子永别了。他和五任太子永别了。   
这不是他希望的，可也不是他有办法改变的。留不住的。分开的时候，或早或晚，总是会来。   
现在，这胖乎乎的店家，泼辣的老板娘，新婚的小子媳妇，也无声无息的离开了人世间。   
他走在路上，不见一丝完满。   
他叹口气。多少人走了就再没回来，多少最后一眼不过是不经意的一瞥，又多少遗言不过是那一刻无关紧要的话语。  
趁还回得去的时候，回去罢。   
归路不如来时安静。混杂的声音惹得他心里堵得慌。   
有人夜里赶路，崭新的马车车轮滚滚，时快时慢。他站在路边，看着车上的灯光行远去了。   
他习惯这么不动地站着。   
大护法可不是一般人呢。他笑笑。   
他站在一边，看着时光滚动向前，看着人们跟着跑。他动不了，赶不上，就干脆静静看着。   
白驹过隙，一看就是百年过去。   
他活成了能够衡量时间的不动标石，他的生命记忆已可衡量历史的进程。   
这山河和他一样毫无变化，里面的人却来来往往，事事如新。每天都是新的，新的人来，新的事到。他好容易认识到的故人、记得的旧事如泡沫般消散。   
他去触碰新来的人，听见新来的事。但不一会儿他们也不见了，只见到一张张新面孔，一把把新声音。   
循环往复，永不停歇。  
故夕毫不留恋的离开他，新的一天急火火的到来。  
他是一个老人，走在一片新天地里，被世界落在了身后。他看着形形色色的人聚了又散，看见他自己恍惚的面容。他爱过的恨过的，怜惜的疼爱的，一切的一切都将故去，留下他一个人在原地徘徊着，数着旧时光中的笑容。   
他不老不死，亦打不破这死循环。   
四季往复，不为谁停留。   
秋已尽了，冬日将来。冬过了，又是新年，又是新春。   
大护法走在回宫的路上，想着春天的光景。乌钢杖上的蓝焰熄去，傍晚时才积下的小水洼也早已悄悄消失。   
大护法走在青石路上，如往日一般面无表情，如往日一般轻声叨念着。   
“春意浓，点点新芽绿枝头。不如旧，尚念故年霜枫红。”


	8. 【太法】亡命鬼

鸣蝉不闻秋不见

夏天已到了尾声，聒噪鸣蝉纷纷死去，暑气却未退，秋意远得似是遥挂在天边。  
这夹在中间的日子让人心生焦灼。

少了蝉鸣聒噪，耳边的蚊蝇嗡嗡愈加清晰起来。大护法靠着自家院里的树贪凉，本来懒睡不愿醒，却不敌这恼人声响之扰终于睁眼。  
他一进*的小院后有个荷塘。一池荷花都是他好风雅的时日里亲手种的，如有风来时，饱满粉花摇摇曳曳，悠然自得。而如今，花谢的七七八八，花瓣或是落了或是蔫了，裸露出干瘪的莲蓬子来。同样蔫蔫的还有那小白鸟，他趴在池边荷叶的影下，羽毛耷拉下来，不复平日顽皮神气。

真是满目衰败之像。

小涅叽见他起了，抬起一边翅膀，哀哀叫了一声。护法抹去额角的汗水，捞起鸟儿，赤着双脚进了屋。

门开着，门框上糊的纸被风吹着闷闷的响。涅叽飞到风口处抖开羽毛，护法洗净手，用老葫芦瓢子舀些水后便捏起冰粉果子来。

他拿了三只碗，两碗满满的盛好后他手一顿，觉得自己真是晒糊涂了。  
太子不在，他做这个给谁吃呢？  
他本是不爱吃这东西的，只是太子每每来玩，馋这民间食物，也就缠着他做了几次。他吃得多也就惯了，但终归不是太喜欢的。  
他端起碗来想把粉倒去，但涅叽急急叫了声表示抗议。啊，他怎的忘记了太子早把小鸟儿教的也开始馋这甜物。还好涅叽嘴不叼，不像那太子，不加花露还不肯吃呢。  
太子曾说那花露闻着好似西宫宫女的脂粉香。

真不知那西宫有什么好，护法嘟囔着。他脚踩在不平的地上，犹豫再三，还是加了些花露到碗里。  
真不知有些什么好哟。

屋里闷的很。他抱起涅叽又去了院子。不知是站起来急了还是被外头阳光晃了眼，他觉得眼前明明灭灭，头也晕，看什么都有种不真实感。  
但身上的暑气灼热可是真的很啊。

明明已经下午三时，太阳却不见西垂的迹象。护法拖了洗衣的大木桶过来放在荷塘里，抱着白鸟儿，拿了桨，坐在里面慢慢划着。小盆一晃一晃，半沉半浮，不一会儿涅叽就躲在他怀里睡着了。

无人说话，他也不恼，只是顾自摘了几个尚且新鲜的莲蓬下来。总算有些凉风了，怀里涅叽的羽毛尖尖儿被吹起，整只鸟看着更像个茸茸球。  
太子来玩的时候，最喜欢在涅叽睡觉的时候弄醒他。  
木盆子又是一晃，他下意识以为那顽皮孩子又在故意胡闹。然而他怔了怔，反应过来不过是重量不匀罢了。  
护法低眉抿唇。  
“唉。苍髯枯坐，池畔翘首盼儿回。顽童离水，隐入花间不思归。”他笑着唱给自己听，手上剥起莲子来。  
莲子白嫩的，他懒得去莲心，直接一口一个慢慢嚼着。一开始只觉得苦，后来莲子的味道上来了，也还甜丝丝的。  
他不讨厌那苦味，倒是吃到鲜甜反而不习惯了。往年里他剥好了莲子去了莲心，自己不吃、只是一个一个往太子嘴里送。太子这孩子好新鲜，在宫里只能吃到冰糖炖过的莲子不过瘾。知道护法塘里摘来的清爽，他便常常来，常常缠着护法划着小木盆，摇摇晃晃的，一个下午就过去啦。  
偶尔看太子嚼的满嘴生津，护法也会玩心大起给他个苦莲心，呛得他直骂死胖子坏心肠。他也难得的会依着太子骂，摸摸太子的头顶，安安静静只是笑。

护法低下头来，摸摸小涅叽。  
“好兄弟呀，吃莲子吗？”  
白鸟儿不知什么时候醒了。他啾的啼鸣，护法听着，小心翼翼去了莲心，喂给了他去。  
“好兄弟呀。”护法喃喃。“只有我俩这么闲了。那个可怜孩子，别说来我这里，怕是西宫也没空去咯。”  
明明在去花生镇前的每个夏天，或多或少，他都是会来的。

突然间，他听见急促的敲门声。啧，他叹着，飞身跃起回到岸上。

他开了门，是宫里传旨的内监携天子手谕而来。内监整个人在护法眼里像是蒙了重影，看不清，像是在那，又像是不在。  
内监将手谕交给他，并说是皇上有令，命他去寻逃家太子归来。  
内监的声音嗡嗡作响，形体影影重重，护法眼睛一花，一时间感觉周围一切都是虚影。

他的话也让护法摸不着头脑。

太子？哪里还有太子？花生镇事故之后新帝登基，两年来未曾立后纳妃，哪里来的太子？

护法突然有种极不好的感觉。他抬头看天，太阳依然悬在最高处，一动不动的。阳光炙烈，灼得人他又开始晕乎。  
不对啊，不对。  
内监走了，他再仔细看手谕。  
他好像看见太子二字后面跟着是熟悉的名字。护法还来不及惊讶，狂风便已刮起，院门嘭的被吹上。

他摇摇头。怕不是看错了吧。回屋，回屋慢慢瞧那手谕去。  
他擦掉脚底泥土，打算换掉湿了的衣袍，顺便梳好被吹散的发髻。他走到镜子前一看，顿时说不出话来。

大护法有一头乌发，在头上盘成个圆鼓鼓的发髻。护法盯着镜中的自己，眉头紧锁。  
每一任太子登基，他便会从发际线开始生出一缕白发来，界限清晰的像是故意挑出来染白了似的。从新帝爷爷的爷爷数起，他该有五缕霜白。  
然而他只数到四。余下的四缕白发看着颇似缺了拇指的骨爪紧紧抓着他的头。

不对啊…他明明记得…  
他头晕脑胀，下意识看看窗外。  
现在应该是黄昏时辰，怎么太阳还不落。  
护法焦灼的踱来踱去，身上袍子不等他换，已经自己风干了。

乌钢杖落地的声音和涅叽的一声长鸣打碎了他脑内的混沌。  
原来是这样啊。  
大护法恍然大悟。  
原来是这样。

 

那未尝不是件好事。

他准备停当，头顶小涅叽，肩挂包袱皮，手拿乌钢杖，嘴角带笑脚底生风，欣欣然追出门去。

2-

大护法走在路上，心中无事一身轻松，虽然面上不显，心里却是愉悦的。

难得有一回他知道太子跑去了哪里，难得他的旅途有个具体的方向，而不是仅仅存着个飘忽的目标而不知如何达成。难得他能确切的知道太子平安无事。

唯一让旅途不那么顺遂的只有那曾经被他抱怨不够温暖的太阳了。不知怎么，天边红日无论何时都不移位置，像是个红纸剪出的圆片片粘在穹庐顶。

红纸圆片片啊，护法想着，想起什么好笑的事来了。

太子刚刚迁去东宫的时候刚好是猫狗都嫌的年纪，天不怕地不怕调皮捣蛋，除了画画和被太师摁着学习的时候外，仗着父皇宠他，简直活脱脱一个混世魔王。  
还记得那搬迁细软家私物什的日子，太子上蹿下跳，摸摸宫女姐姐的手，拽拽内监的头发，打翻了不少宫人手里的箱子盒子，腿脚上又不老实，前院后宫跑进跑出，左磕右碰，破了皮也不嫌疼。护法不言不语站在一边由着他闹。太子也是小孩子，只要他不闯出什么事来，偶尔让他放放鬼也没什么不好。

人年轻就是精力旺盛。小太子疯了一整天，直到最后掀了自己画具盒子知道心疼了才消停下来。可惜太子不跑来跑去不代表就让人省心。折腾大护法就像是他从娘胎里带出来的本能一般，向来不肯歇着的。

太子央着他给他洗澡，洗过了又赖着他讲故事。大护法自知他的故事干巴，却还只得讲上一讲。太子其实混不介意故事内容，只是眯着眼看他双唇张合，小脑袋一点一点的。  
一截蜡烛头烧完了，太子依旧不肯睡。护法软了声音哄着，问他怎么了。

白日里精神满满没心没肺到令人头疼的孩子突然嘟起嘴巴，红了眼眶。  
“我有特别重要的东西落在房里了。胖子你能不能不要走…没了那东西我睡不着…”

原来是这小子搬了屋子害怕呢。小皮猴儿还会胆小，真稀奇。护法忍俊不禁。  
“什么嘛，害怕怎么啦！还笑我，你个坏心肠的死胖子。看我不捏的你痛到知道害怕！”  
小太子恼羞成怒的伸手捏他脸上的烙铁印子*，两人当即滚做一团。  
天晚了瞌睡自然会来。他给太子裹好被子，拍着他的背，不一会儿怀里的小孩就安稳入梦。  
昔年心无隔阂。

第二天太子一醒就拽着他去找遗落的东西。太子爬上床，从床架子顶上撕下来什么东西递给护法。

那是一张剪圆的红纸片片，上面画了张皱着眉头严肃的脸，一看就知道是太子的手笔。  
“哝，就是这个啦。是不是很像？你不在的时候，只要看见他我就不害怕！”

 

护法走着，低头抿着唇笑，笑自己老了，整天回忆些有的没的。太子床顶的红纸片片早在不记得多少年前就被无声无息的取下。太子大了，不需要它来安慰了。  
这没什么大不了的。如今太子就算没了护法也不害怕，一个儿时破烂的红纸片片又如何呢。

大护法裹紧了红袍子，在市井人群中挤过。

他习惯了这阳光。虽然光亮刺眼让他偶尔头晕目眩，但他赶在路上，太阳多挂几时总是好的。  
他将出了京城，突然被眼前一抹红吸引了注意。涅叽从布囊里飞出来，啾啾叫着，向前飞去。  
是有个十二三岁的姑娘家在卖糖葫芦啊。红果子包了黄澄澄的糖，晶莹剔透得讨喜。

太子两支，小姜一支…他和小白鸟儿分一支…小鸣最好也带一支…护法摸出铜板来，收好妥帖包上的糖葫芦。他刚想出声道谢，却发现那姑娘不见了，好像一瞬间融进了阳光里。

太子吃的第一串糖葫芦是沾了口脂的香气的。他十一二岁的时候误闯了西宫，被一个个粉雕玉琢的小宫女抱着亲。有个别面貌姣好胆子又大的叼着红果逗他，太子就傻傻的把果子上的糖舔完了，浑然不觉有哪里不好。  
那回好在是让护法找到了，不然被皇上看见那要打折他一条腿去。

从那以后，脂粉香再没离开过太子。他往西宫跑得多而勤。宫里都是女眷，护法不能进去，只好在宫门外等着太子，一般一等就是一天。曾经他嫌那太阳毒辣，现在想想，和他当今行路时脊梁上的太阳不过半斤八两罢了。

要是他回到的不是两年前而是太子十二岁的时候，他一定防着那叛逆期的太子进西宫宫门。唉，那该省去多少麻烦。

他突然想起昨日冰粉里花露的滋味来，一时间胃里翻腾难受。

他摇摇头。知足常乐哟，至少现在太子还是太子就已经让他很开心了。  
平白回去了两年时光啊。够了，足够了。

他不必向路人寻人所以脚程飞快，又因识得了路免去从崖壁上摔下的尴尬。他一天赶了几天的路，太阳不落，他也不觉得累。

大护法接着走，直奔太子画山水的山梁上去。

他拿出糖葫芦来想分了，但所有人都用异样而惊恐的眼神看着他。  
怎么了？他不解。  
涅叽一声尖叫，踩在糖葫芦盒子上。  
怎么了？  
他打开一看，只见一串串血浸的小骷髅。

满目猩红化成血浪，连他一身红袍也变得腥臭粘稠。  
他被拖入深渊。

3-

那猩红的漩涡渐渐变色，变成粘腻的蓝。  
眯眼看清了，发现是花生镇民的血撒在处刑墙上。他下意识去抽背上的乌钢杖，却什么都没摸到。  
惨咯。惨咯。没了乌钢杖，我可是真是害怕得紧啊。护法嘴里哼哼唧唧，脚下轻巧的向前去了。

天果然不肯让他的日子好过。混混沌沌的错乱时空打乱他的步调，太子顽劣性子未脱又难寻的很。乌钢杖明明是入了虫洞后才没的，唉，像这样什么都不按顺序来，叫他怎么能好。  
像个普通老人一般，护法揉着突突直跳的太阳穴给自己醒醒脑。罢了罢了，他自我宽慰，这花生镇不闯还是得闯。毕竟赢了两年时日和一个机会，他再怨声载道就显得不知好歹。

他确实是不知好歹的。他欠着五代前先帝的恩情，后面又一代代的恩宠加在他身上，可是他呢，他却不知感激，反倒生了贪心。他生了不该生的心思来。  
他亏欠太子太多。

护法顺着旧时记忆拖着两个花生人离开险境，又进了戏台子的火房，寻得了暗门却不急着进去。  
太子告诉过他他的乌钢杖去哪了。扮神仙压压惊是假，夺回他立命之本才能真压住心里的不安。

涅叽飞出布袋，停在他脑袋上。  
“啾咕。”鸟说。  
“啾咕。”护法回答。  
真是聪明的鸟儿。

大护法头顶烈日，寻着欧阳宅邸而去。  
他那年代再怎样的重门深居结构都是差不多的。惯了裴定的宫室，在这欧阳宅子里他行走不一会儿就找到挂有欧阳家族画像的地方。他刻意环顾四周，看见门帘上的花样，心里事情兜兜转转，思绪跑远了，找乌钢杖似乎也不那么急迫。

记得上次他带太子离开花生镇的时候重伤未愈，胖胖的身子被包成了和涅叽一般的白团团儿。白鸟儿停在和他久别重逢的乌钢杖上耷拉着翅膀，身旁坐的太子耷拉着头，咬着牙，捏着蓝石头，却不念小姜，反到难得的絮絮叨叨起无关紧要的事来。  
他曾提到这欧阳宅的一处怪异门帘。  
一共四片，太子告诉他，暗黄色底的，上面画了紫花和似虫非虫似人非人的扭曲形像。初见来妖艳好看，再看就让人身上毛毛的。太子平板地念着，手里攥紧了那块晶莹的蓝石头。

护法知道太子真正想说什么。他心里清清楚楚，可惜身上太痛，没有力气也没有那份闲心去点破。  
傻瓜，要是想着的真是画，作为丹青好手的他眼中哪里会没有神采呢。再说，看他的手啊，手背上青筋都出来了，绷得紧紧又不敢用力。太子手指颤抖着想要包紧那纯洁的灵魂，却又怕靠的太近，怕让那灵魂因承受不起那股力而受伤破碎。  
不过是我思君忧君顾彼，太子的心点点大，本装不下几个人。无妨，无妨。

护法不说话，只是看着太子的眉眼发愣。  
这个孩子，从小就不似生在帝王家，无心机无城府，喜怒哀乐全写在脸上，和他那些个弟弟们全然不同。  
可惜出了大护法，没有谁是一成不变的。太子第一次学会伪装情绪是在十五岁那年，皇后仙去之时。  
皇后是太子生母，却也仅仅只是生了他罢了。第一个抱太子的不是她，第一个亲太子的不是她，太子叫的第一个人不是她，更别提哄睡督膳劝学种种成长中琐事。太子几乎没见过她几面，甚至算不得认识她。  
但是皇后驀了，当举国服丧。皇上哭，国舅哭，众臣哭，众皇子哭，甚至后妃女眷也哭着跪了一地。太子看着，突然也有模有样的让眼泪嘀嗒在木然的脸上，跪守在灵前。  
大护法那时就看着他，看着他再不如潭底幽深的眼睛。  
这聪明孩子长大了。  
这成长的路走着就不回还。

是啊。  
皇后驀了，太子嚎啕。  
小姜死了，太子无泪。

太子在皇后灵前跪了三天，而这回小姜…  
护法记得，已经三年了，太子还没有走出来。带倒勾的刺扎深了，穿心而过难以愈合。  
可惜。可惜。

从棺头边上站起来的太子第一次以大护法之名称呼他，而从蓝石头上挪开眼神的太子再不以大护法之名称呼他。  
对不起，对不起。  
太子没有原谅他。

幸好如今天地的垂怜让护法明白了些事情。  
他昔时愚钝，只护得太子周全无恙。  
而今欲赎罪，需保得太子喜乐无忧。

护法笑笑。既然如此，那再切莫让他怪罪我了。

他掀起那门帘子，一抬眼看，看见一片太阳明光中乌沉沉的一点儿。  
啊，找到了。他的乌钢杖就在那，一动不动满心期盼的等着他来。可他的太子呢？他的太子在哪里啊？那如风自由的孩子，总是从他身边匆匆而过，他自顾自跑着，不曾为谁停留过。  
也或许他停留过，只是护法不知道。他跑得太快，护法追不上。虽然多少次他都找到了他，但终究是晚了。  
他追不上。

他曾期待着风停的那天，但他现在宁愿那风不要停，不要被困在蓝莹莹的晶石里。如果小姜活着就好，至少太子会笑。  
他见不得太子的一丝神伤。孩子嘛，要高高兴兴的才好啊。

他向房间尽头的乌钢杖走去。  
他一步步走向另一个选择。

乌钢杖乌沉沉，将周身的光都吸将进去。护法伸手手去拿，却突然想是被什么怔住，一动不动。他看着不曾西垂的阳光暗下去。  
再看，他指尖的哪里是乌钢杖，明明是团黑影。那影子瞬间拉长变大，变得遮天蔽日，幻化出一个无比眼熟的恐怖形象。  
地狱的恶鬼啊…

护法站在木栈道上，只见一个黑尖尖掏出枪。他听见一声闷响，然后一阵剧痛。  
他眼前是万丈深渊。

4-

他摔下去。涅叽一声惊叫，徒劳的扯住他后背的包袱皮。  
他往下落。

太阳远离了这个地方。杀手的影子牵扯着木栈道的层层黑影将他团团围住，遮住他的眼睛，逼出泪水。双目又干又涩，烟熏火燎一般。他看不见，只能感觉自己在下坠，下坠。

那黑影织就的网在他已经不知道身在何处时被陡然撕裂。阳光急火火的降到他周身，过于炙热，也过于明亮。他眼前发白，像是有群群飞蝇惊起。

“好了。”他听见自己说。  
“哎呀快给我。谁叫你坐在树上，搞得我都看不见你做得怎样了。”太子夺过他手里的丝巾，捻着四个角角仔细瞧。  
原来他是从树上掉下来了啊。没有杀手，没有栈道，没有虫洞里恐怖的回声。他眼前只有一个满脸严肃的太子。

大护法摇摇头，惊得头顶小涅叽扑棱棱飞起。这太阳真讨厌，这酷暑真讨厌，这耳边蚊虫飞舞的嗡鸣真讨厌。个个都没有良心的，让他一个老人受这种摧残，简直太不讲理。真是，在难受的境地呆久了就爱想些舒心的事。瞧他，连坠个崖都能出神成这样。  
罢了罢了，不就是十一根肋骨吗，左右都是要断的。

他记得那个夏天，太子十六岁。叛逆，不服管教。青春年少时常思美色，西宫女眷新来旧去，红颜倾城总是不缺的。太子生了贼心没贼胆，只好苦练丹青，为自己编织个好借口。  
他摆着画架坐在夏日的庭院里。看三眼画一笔，再三眼，再一笔。他多数时候只是在看的，睁大了眼睛仔仔细细的看着，用视线抚摸过每一寸诱惑，一点都不漏去，不辜负了去。

太子看着那些水灵灵的姑娘，碰不着。唉，那些个可是他父皇的女人啊。他有心无力，只好细细描画那些红妆鲜妍的容颜。  
护法看着那个清秀的小太子，心里怜惜。唉，那可是奕卫国未来的天子啊。他不能靠近，只好深深印刻那少年的模样入脑海。  
大护法不老不死，却过着刀头舔血的征战日子。他不知道自己是什么人，要做什么，他不知道他活在世上有何意义。他无法为自己而活了。他心里需要一个人，他必须有一个谁支撑着他对这个世界存着念想。如今他要保护的是太子，他便看着太子记着太子。他是大护法，太子的大护法。

“啧，胖子你手艺不错嘛。不过下次我再找你，那字就不能再绣的这么硬了。女孩子的花名，要绣起来娟秀些才有意思。”太子捏着丝帕的角角，看着那他近来特别上心的名字，嘴里提点着，不曾抬起头来。

太子看上了一个宫女，可人家不愿意做他的模特。太子讨好女子惯了手，便想用块丝帕讨她欢心。可惜她冰雪聪明，知道这不过平常伎俩，不买账，徒留太子苦恼着。  
太子难得主动来寻大护法，难得低了声气的求他。  
绣个宫女的名字罢了，这有何难。他早就明白，为了不让太子有一丁点不如意，他什么都会做。  
只是没想到他最终绣了很多很多的花名。

这绣帕送进宫门去，太子抱着美人图出来。护法顶着灿烈的阳光一如往常在门口等着，看着太子眼里兴奋的神情渐渐冷却。太子习惯性的把画具交给他拿，自己大步往前走，直嚷嚷着天气热，再不提画宫女的事。  
护法跟着他的脚步，沉默不语。太子每画过了一个女子后就再不会喜欢她。他的心小小的，一个进来了，一个就被挤出去。  
护法一直在他身边，看着他心里人来人往。

天上红日炙烤得红袍表面烫手。他撑了伞遮在太子头顶。  
太子是什么时候比他高出了这么多？好年岁一晃而过，小娃娃不见了，眼前少年面上隐隐有了胡茬。  
果然还是改变了。两三年前的小孩子尚能在享受花露里脂粉香的同时不忘了为他做冰粉的人，可如今…如今他真是专注了，心里只装一点点，眼里只看一点点。  
怕是这几年天太热，晒的什么都缩水了罢。护法笑笑。

他问过太子为什么知道这招会奏效。  
太子如平日里一般嬉皮笑脸摆弄着画具。“你这莽夫，只知道跟着我，其他什么都不懂。被夫子逮着读了这些年的书，投其所好抓其软肋她便言听计从不敢违抗的道理若是不懂，我还做什么太子呢？”  
其实对付大护法，只需要抓他软肋便可以了。他心尖尖上的软肉本就留给了太子拿捏，投他所好全然不必要。

亦或许，他是知道的。  
太子是个聪明孩子。他不在乎那份母鸡护雏似的执着，仅仅只需要不远不近的守护。他知不知道，并不会有什么区别。  
你看，那些个宫女妃子就算一时被暖进了心坎里，最终不都是玩笑似的画张了肖像，然后再无然后的结局。

无论他再怎么希望，太子都不可能永远是他怀里喊着害怕不愿睡去的孩子。

护法听见太子回答的时候是愣住的。他不记得太子懂了帝王心术，他不记得太子也有了九曲肠子。他怎么一瞬间…那么像个太子呢。  
他看过了四代人长大，却从未有过这般如同时间断裂一般的惊愕。老了老了，眼神不好，经年累月里曾经顽皮孩子的点点改变，他竟然都没看在眼里。  
说到头到底还是他私心作祟，蒙蔽了百年来古井不波的清明。  
他有罪。他曾贪心不足的渴求有一天自己在人心里的分量能和体重一样，沉甸甸的。  
他终归不只是一件红袍。在那矮胖的躯壳中间尚燃着点点烛火，火焰微弱将熄未熄。  
他以为他的太子再不会回到他身边来。

太子追着他的本心到这花生镇来，大护法寻着太子。他们都飞快的跑着，可惜过往的阴影怎么也甩不掉。  
他又看见绣有名字的丝帕。红色的，虽然磨得破旧，但颜色鲜亮在阳光下一照，晃的护法近乎目盲。  
真特别。  
太子可是从没有送出过任何红色的礼物，也不曾亲手绣过谁名字的呀。  
那条系在手腕上的殷红闯进来，定住了如风自由之人的一颗心。丝帕缠缠绕绕，在太子心上束缚紧了，永远的将那善良少年的身影锁在里面。那可是太子唯一的交心挚友。

太子怕是不会和他回去。大护法突然明白，太子要的不是自由。相反，他游荡久了，需要一个归宿。  
他终于学会了长久的在乎。

好吧，护法想着，迈开腿走向与曾经不同的选择。  
大护法办事不力，当以死谢罪啊，他口里喃喃着笑出声来，  
他弄出的嘶哑声响渐渐激荡出回声，好像他置身于某个狭小空间里。护法心里一惊，睁开眼睛，看见眼前的画面如毒雾般消散在黑暗中。

奇怪。大护法察觉有哪里不对。刚才的记忆有不实，但他分辨不出什么是是真什么是假。  
可惜啊可惜。

大护法忘了一件重要的事。他不该忘却，却阻止不了它在脑中角落里深藏起来，再不露面。  
他忘了太子十七岁那年立夏的夜晚悲忸而惭愧的泪水。  
太子抱着他哭，鼻涕眼泪蹭了他一脸一脖子，脏兮兮的，却带着鲜活的温度。  
“原谅我啊。”太子哭着。  
“父皇警告过我，不准和你亲近…我舍不得他对你动手…”太子瓮声瓮气的说着，频繁的抽噎让他全身一抽一抽。护法拍着他的脊背，如同当年哄睡时一般。  
“他现在怕死了我，也怕死了我的弟弟们。胖子啊，我害怕。我没有爹了，你不能不要我…不能不要我…”太子的胡茬扎在他颈窝里，异常的痛。  
护法不说话，只是紧紧抱着他。太子愈加慌乱，挣脱他的怀抱牵起他的手。郑重的，太子看着他的眼睛。  
“你是世上对我最好的人。第一个抱我的是你，第一个亲我的是你。从小到大只有你不离开我，就算我假装纨绔沉迷女色还是…不管我怎么对你…你都…你都…”  
你都不曾恼过我，不曾怪过我，不曾厌恶过我。只有你不曾放弃我。  
他抽噎着，泣不成声。  
我知道啊，护法在心里说。他听见太子未出口的话。  
胖子，我从来不曾忘记你的好。相反的，你在我身边的每时每刻，我都记得清清楚楚。  
“傻孩子。”大护法说。  
“啾啾咕。”涅叽说，停到太子的发顶上。护法看见了，小白鸟头顶上的床架子处贴着一张褪色的红纸片片，剪成圆圆的形状，画着张圆圆的脸蛋。  
“没了它我睡不着。你看看，多像啊。”  
太子破涕为笑，一张脸黏糊糊地皱起来，却看着分外可爱。

可惜大护法不记得了。  
他心里带着莫须有的自责和难过走下去，殊不知无人怪罪他，他的所谓心痛也不过是内心黑暗的窃窃私语，没有一句是真。

三魂归位，护法发现自己一根肋骨也没断，不痛，也没有多少血。是啦，运气好，这回只掉进一个短而缓的虫洞里。  
他看见前面天光，连滚带爬的出去，摔在乌钢杖前。

他看见太子。  
太子直勾勾的盯着前方，看着那腕上一抹鲜红的少年被揪着领子，屠夫手上刀刃寒光闪闪。

5-

蓝光迸发，菜刀落地。蛤蟆似的老头一命呜呼，那曾救他于河水的花生人和太子抱在一起瑟瑟发抖。  
子弹破空之音声声入耳，他举起乌钢杖。  
我管你直面不直面你的恐惧。我管你是不是恶鬼，要不要去末路。谁身上没点小秘密，背负着便背负着，反正无人倾听也无人去说。  
谁管你那么多。  
我是奕卫国的大护法，我只管保得太子喜乐平安。

金属相击的声音没有规律的，莫名唤起他脑海中对太子初学踢毽子时毽子上铜钱相碰发出清脆声响的印象。毛孩子那时候运动能力尚且强大，刚学会了便扯着护法非要他陪他玩。西宫宫女扎的毽子不结实，没踢一会儿便散开了去。  
记忆里四五片鸡毛飞扬。  
护法抬手，把黑衣杀手轰成四五块碎肉。

终于到了作出选择的时候。

他们一行人向村外走，坐在山头上歇息。  
他坐着，涅叽站在乌钢杖上梳理羽毛，再旁边的太子有样学样梳理一头打结的长发。  
他看向太子，想想心中的决定，不知如何开口。  
他们沉默着，沉默着。小鸣跑远了，小姜不说话。  
“我们就此别过吧。”护法最终先开了口。你留在这里看大好河山，又有情投意合的朋友。你回宫了不会快乐，而我不愿见你伤心。  
所以留下来吧，留下来做你想做的艺术家，甚至什么都好。留下来吧，去追寻你命中带来的自由，当你累了，归宿也容易寻找。  
不要跟我回去。这次不要跟我回去了。护法迷迷糊糊的想起还有什么别的原因让他放弃了带太子回宫的念想，但他不记得。

他是为了躲避一场灾难呀。原本的时空里两年后出了点不可逆转的事情，他不希望太子再卷入其中…可惜他不记得。

护法拄着乌钢杖往前走，衣角却被人大力拽住。  
“大护法，我们起驾回宫。”太子嗓音嘶哑。  
这是怎么了？  
“若我是天子，就没有什么事情做不到了。我最喜欢的还是画画，但我讨厌画污浊的东西。现在想来，在我出来画这片江山之前，还得努力把这些个藏污纳垢的洗洗干净。”

护法叹口气。当今圣上一双眼睛果然是不瞎的。

该留下的没留下，该走的没走。那个想看看外面世界的孩子看着他们渐行渐远，缓缓挥手告别。小姜最终留在生养他的土地上，太子一回都城也必将接受他命中注定要担负的责任。

他们路上行至一湖泊。护法拿了葫芦下午装水。烈日当空，粼粼波光折射万千变化。水里似有流光游移。护法似是被那变幻颜色所蛊惑，一头扎进水里。

他被一双手拍醒。  
“死胖子？死胖子？听我说话你都能睡着啊，胆子是越来越大。”  
他睁开眼睛，发现自己坐在船上与太子对酌。太阳被薄云遮掩，夏日的炎炎暑气不复存在。  
他环顾四周，发现自己对这座湖毫无印象。他走遍了奕卫山川，小县小镇不曾去过也就罢了，但湖泊…没有陌生的道理。  
他伸手去够桌上酒盏，却被太子笑眯眯地拦住。  
“现在还不到你喝的时候哦。我好不容易把四处游荡的你带到这里来，好好听我讲句话还是要的吧。”  
他在说什么？刚才他们还在赶路，什么叫四处游荡？  
他盯着太子看。太子的胡须被精心修剪打理过了，一头长发束起，甚至带了个小冠。  
这不是太子。这是新帝，这分明是他登基后的模样。  
“你到底是谁。”护法冷下声音。  
“我就是我呀，”坐他对面的人笑眯眯的，拿出非同往常的耐心来，“你爱叫我太子。”  
太子摇着桨将船划到湖心。湖上似是有雾，四周山峦只露出个尖尖角，若影若现的。山川湖水在雾中显得飘渺无依。  
“护法，你看这湖水。清澈的，却不至于见底而无鱼。你说若是奕卫国也是这般，那该多好。”  
他低下头。山河百年海清河晏向来是每个好帝王的希望。  
太子端起酒盏一饮而尽。“你呀，你呀。不通凡情。”太子拉过他伤痕累累的手。  
“这里没意思，消夏还是你那小荷塘来的妙哉。走吧，我们去吃莲子。”

太阳又回到了天顶的位置，散发起他灼灼的热量。  
成年的太子和他勉勉强强挤在一个盆里在水中半沉半浮。由于空间狭窄他们俩近乎算是紧紧贴在一起。小涅叽嫌弃的飞远了，留下他俩人膝头放着干瘪的莲蓬。  
护法小心翼翼的剥好了莲子，去了莲心往太子嘴里送去。  
“果然还是清甜的。这么多年过去了，还是一模一样的好，从未变化。”  
护法低下头，不知道该说些什么。他看着这个比起太子更像新帝的人，心里只有悲怆。为什么呢，他不知道，抑或者是刻意忘却了。  
他尝试着和太子说话。  
“你说…我是你叫来的？”  
“是呀。”太子眯着本来就小的眼睛，露出和他父亲一样的的狡猾笑容。  
“我有话跟你说。这很重要很重要的事我一辈子都没有说出口，直到昨天我才明白，话藏在心里是没有用的。有些事情啊，如果不抓住机会说…”  
太子艺术的芊芊玉手点在护法唇上。  
“我费尽周折回到这里。现在，请你听我说。”

“我听见了你的心声。你说我是风，飘摇在山河美人间难以寻觅。可是我的好护法呀，你可知道，我从不曾飘摇不定。  
若我是旋风，你便是站在风眼里的唯一一个。你不用找我呀，大护法，我其实不曾离开。我环绕着你，你去哪里，我的挂念便跟到哪里。唉，大护法，你怎么不注意独属于风眼的宁静，反而在意外面短暂喧嚣的风漩不曾吹拂到你？不通凡情的护法哟，你要那风漩轻浮短暂的触碰有何用，明明我的中心永远在你这里。  
护法呀，请停下脚步。每每你伸出手去触摸那浮躁的风时，你动一寸，我便把风眼挪一寸。我们这样你追我赶的，什么时候是个头呀？所以你停下来吧，停下来吧。你追赶着我，可你却何曾知道我也在寻找着你呢。  
之前我多傻，什么都不曾告诉你。从今往后我们再不要一意孤行。以后一我们起走吧，一起走。”  
我们可还有大半辈子活的。

护法低眉。  
“好呀。”他低声说。  
听君一语，此生无憾。

太子放开他的手。  
“这就对了嘛。”他把最后的莲子吃下。  
“我执国法，你护国法。我们本来天生一对。”

大护法猛然睁眼，眼皮上虫蝇惊起。他看见天地间一片血红。  
原来如此。  
他全身只有一只尚未被蛀食的眼球能动。  
夏尽了，秋还没来。他奕卫国的百万雄师曾声势浩大如蝉鸣阵阵震耳欲聋。  
然而这卡在两季之间的时日当真难捱哟。  
鸣蝉死光了，一具具空壳落在地上。  
大护法像靠在树下纳凉一般靠在战马腐朽的尸骸上，背后骨海一片。他面前的洼地积满血水形成一个小塘，里面支棱出的浮尸残肢如花茎伸向天空。  
他耳边蚊虫嗡嗡。  
唉，这哪里是夏天的飞蚊发出的声响啊。  
明明是尸蝇漫天，蛆虫遍野。  
他身边的太子已经遍体尸斑。乌鸦吃掉了他的眼睛，老鼠啃去了他的手指，莲子瓣似的蛆虫从他嘴里爬进爬出。

唉，怪不得太阳从不曾落下。

他的独眼转着，盯着那形似太子的空壳。  
都是虚幻的。他想。  
对于一具尸体来说，意识神识是不存在的。他毕竟死了。  
虚幻。  
对于一具尸体来说，生者对他的追忆是不存在的。他毕竟察觉不到。  
虚幻。  
对于一具尸体来说，生者为他的故去失去理智是没有意义的。毕竟那什么都不能改变。  
虚幻。  
对于一具尸体来说，灵魂是否存在也不重要了。不归体的灵魂就算存在也没有意义。毕竟他回不来人世间。  
虚幻。  
而记忆…他一场大梦，其中内容几成是真几成是假，他自己都不知道。  
都是浮光幻梦罢了。

就连生死这世间唯一的法则和真理也不复存在。  
对死人生死也是不存在的。  
他什么都感受不到，什么都不知道。

护法脸上挂着不存在的微笑。  
命都没了，谈什么都多余。  
在死亡面前，什么爱意抉择，全不过是尘世间可以去抛却的浮土。  
还梦着回到往昔扭转乾坤呢。还梦着回到往昔从头来过呢。  
笑话。  
现在的惨状都无法改变还妄图改写过往？  
真是春秋大梦。

奕卫国大护法坦然闭上眼睛，感觉天边红日照在身上。不远处的血池里，一张剪得圆圆的红纸片片，挂在太子和身体分离的手上。蚊蝇散开的时候，隐隐约约能看见一张圆圆的脸蛋。线条稚嫩的，是小孩子的手笔。  
秋天不会来了。

奕卫国大护法呼出最后一口活气。  
“如你所说，我们天生一对。”

天生一对亡命鬼。


	9. 【纳扎隆】诺里亚斯x古萨尔

呼啸掠过白草原上空的风雪里夹杂着隆冬的险恶，在古萨尔灿金的发尖结成冰霜。风打着转转，在他麻木的鼻腔里留下硝烟的味道。  
近了，白军元帅暗自想。收到灵河恩赐的人有着对一切恶念敏感的直觉，他从愈加狂怒的风雪之中嗅到了逼近大军的气息。那个多年前被他用鲜血和精心编制的幻术封锁在纳扎尔之外的缚魂者带着他的阴影异象和铺天盖地的亡魂从极北归来。他们灰色的影子遮蔽了天日，如一只巨大而令人作呕的猛兽鼓着隆隆的喉管，发出恐怖的警告。  
然而恐惧并没有侵袭他的内心。缚魂者不过是一个故人罢了，那亡魂军碰上他的白军，谁都讨不到便宜。这场仗早就该打，他也准备完备，但是他放心不下。  
他卷起大帐的窗帘，看着一个男孩风尘仆仆的到来。他在暮夜的风中骑行，斗篷展开像是翅膀。白草原的天乌沉沉一片，地上的雪是一片脏污的灰锈。那个孩子挺拔的躯干在沉闷的背景中挺拔如年轻的松树。暮光消逝，天地仿佛合为一体，而他堪堪嵌在其中。  
那孩子又不听话，又不听话。叫他驻守在南方都城，但是他不听话。他已经不是那个一口一个先生的乖孩子了。他总是让他放心不下。  
男孩的到来让他心里安静下来。古萨尔对今后日子充满惶惑，不知道北方有什么在等着他，更不知道南方的宫廷里有什么在等着这年轻的小领主。时间已经不够让他给他的小诺里铺一条平顺的路。  
诺里亚斯.厄尔丹奇的来访是个秘密。他自己溜出了风庭跑到白草原来看他的元帅，他的导师。一个事务官为小领主卷起门帘，在接过他厚重斗篷时目光在上面贪婪的扫视而过，旋即恢复成形式化的空洞笑容。  
白军元帅想着，几年后--甚至用不了几年，只要一年，一个月，小诺里脸上的表情也会变成这种僵硬的壳子。有着这个念头在脑海里，他目见所及灰黑色的天地间唯一明亮的裂痕似乎也被绝望的黑幕吞噬。  
又或许他不确定他的小诺里能否活到那个时候。在风庭平安的王土上他对诺里亚斯的能力坚信不疑，毕竟他将毕生所学都教给了他，但是在和缚影者西里斯的战争中，没有任何东西能够对生命做出保证，就连他也不能。如果他输了呢？如果他死了呢？谁来保护他的小诺里？  
雪飘了进来。他的孩子进来了，脸颊冻的通红。他走上去，将披风搭在诺里肩上。诺里沉默着，连脚步都轻的仿佛踏着千年陈雪。  
青年如加冕之前一般向他行礼，湛蓝的双瞳在夜色中泛着天幕般的光，这多少让他有些欣慰，一时间冲淡了纷涌而上的愧疚。他对不起这孩子。诺里不愿意被困在高墙深院里，却乖顺的被戴上宝冠，还有这该死的战争，为什么一定要这个时候打。  
诺里亚斯举着门帘看向外面。举目所及除了乌压压的军帐和点点炊火以外，什么都没有。白草原就是白草原，连一棵树都没有。  
“在看什么？”他像个为学生自豪的普通导师一般拍拍诺里的肩。  
“看北方。”小诺里在礼节允许的范围内轻轻的说。“看您出兵的方向。”  
他的学生想他了，他知道。每次许久没见诺里都会无比拘谨，小心翼翼的怕惹他生气。  
突然间疼痛来袭，好似一只钢爪抓住了他的心脏。某种理智的声音叫嚣着，一种似曾相识的寒颤爬上他的脊背。隐隐约约他邪恶导师的高塔在脑海中浮现，师兄的稚嫩面容上落下斧子的阴影，血滴在导师的木符上嘶嘶作响。导师咯咯的笑，喉咙里鼓出野兽般令人不快的水声。这是灵河对他的警告，不幸的警告，死亡的警告。  
他的预言从不出错。不能让诺里留在危险之中。  
他学生感受到了那未出口的话，用一双哀愁的眼睛看向他。“我会回去的。我要保证后勤，不是吗？”  
诺里上前一步，离他前所未有的近。他脑内一时间一片空白，甚至无法回忆起上次他们如此靠近的时候。  
“先生，我看过了风庭的繁华也看过了草原的风雪，现在我要看看您。”  
他不知如何作答，但是诺里的决心比他能想象的更坚定。  
青年攀上他的腰，然后将整个身体靠上去。诺里的肩膀不如他的宽，这样看起来反倒像是他把他的学生搂在怀里。  
“我不想离开您。”青年在他耳边梦呓一般低语，“我不想失去您，我的先生。”  
嘶哑的嗓音摩擦着他的耳垂，这令他有些不习惯，下意识的向后退开。  
诺里亚斯抽出了佩剑。  
那是他送给他的庆生礼物，用幻术凝出的，利如剃刀。  
“先生，我可以留下来。我可以帮您的。”  
古萨尔劈手夺过那武器，扔到大帐遥遥的另一端。诺里只是惊诧了一瞬，旋即低下了头。  
他委屈一般扁了扁嘴，再一次搂住他的导师，这一次用了几分力道--当然远远不到他挣不开的地步，然而足够让他惊讶于小诺里的成长。他什么时候这么强壮了？  
诺里把他紧紧抱着，嘴里喃喃。  
“我害怕，先生，我好害怕。我梦见你躺在雪里生死未卜，我吓坏了。原谅我任性的跑过来，我只想看看看您是不是好好的。我有种感觉，这次我不来的话，以后见到您…就很难了。”  
在白军元帅意识到自己所处位置之前，青年人柔软的唇已经覆了上来，帐中的烛火暗下去。  
灵河在看着。这个不着边际的念头率先跃入脑海。诺里的力气比记忆中显著见长，青年人带他坐到床上，膝盖在他身边隐隐陷入床铺。  
行军的床铺冰冷而坚硬，他的虎口蹭到床单下凸起的稻草，引起一阵似有似无的酥麻。  
“我向您保证过了，先生。”青年俯下身亲吻他。他有些愣神的看着诺里的脸，看着他乌黑的卷发和湛蓝的双眼。他的学生长大了，长成了英俊的年轻人。  
“我不想离开您，但是我保证过了。”  
青年的舌尖钻入口腔，生涩的来回旋转。他顺着诺里的意，放松了身体。他在舌尖划过后槽牙的时候不自觉的抬起腭骨，青年留恋的退开，跪在床下。  
“先生您真甜。”  
大帐里的炭盆烧得很旺，诺里身上御寒的衣物又厚重的不像话。他看看导师与夏日无异的衣裳又看看自己，有些恼火的将其除下堆作一团，几乎有床一样高了。  
诺里很羡慕他。白军元帅古萨尔有着灵河火焰之吻的恩赐，血脉里是火焰的温度，就连发尖都带着阳光的华彩。他从不觉得冷。  
“您真好看。”诺里喃喃。  
他快燃烧殆尽的身躯有什么好的。倒是小诺里…他看着青年人，感觉到那年轻身躯里比他更加炽烈的力量。诺里的皮肤下岩浆般滚烫汹涌的力量压抑着，连天空一般的双眼里似乎也染上了火光。他不敢去想今晚这股热力将以什么样的形式爆发。  
古萨尔不知道事情是怎么发展到这个地步的。诺里好像昨天都还是他刚捡回的那个小小软软的孩子，奶声奶气的叫他先生，怎么一眨眼就成了个半大小子，胆敢胡作非为了。今天的事情不该发生，但是要是诺里想要…没有什么是他不会给的。  
鬼使神差的，他俯下身摸了摸青年丝绸般的头发。  
诺里笑着，捉住他的手腕。细碎的轻吻向上蔓延。空气似乎带上了刺，扎的他身上痒痒的。  
“我将不淘气，不胡闹，不犯傻。我将不好勇斗狠，不欺软怕硬。”青年低声的说着，托起他的脚踝。“对我而言您重于一切，我的封地与荣耀皆归于您，我的好先生。”  
诺里的手掌在冰天雪地中滚烫的仿佛要融化开来，包裹住他双腿裸露的肌肤。他的吻从脚踝一路向上，温和却毫无章法，带着一股原始的虔诚意味。  
“先生您真好摸。”青年笑笑，扯下他的外袍，一身琳琅落到地上。他的里衣被褪下，诺里爬上床来，亲吻他的脖颈。  
“我是风庭的守卫，南方的坚盾，驱赶寒冷的烈火。我是您永远忠实的诺里亚斯。”  
青年咬上他的喉结，一路向下，温热的舌头舔舐颈窝，柔软的头发蹭的他痒痒的。他忍不住伸手抱住他。  
“先生，我开动了。”  
诺里将头埋到他胸前，小小的犬牙上下卡住胸前的朱红。古萨尔叹息一声，终于在空气的寒凉中打了个颤。明明抱回来的时候是狗，怎么长大了就成了狼呢。他皮肤上泛起阵阵颤栗，却不是道是因为寒冷还是因为他养大的小诺里正像伺候初夜情人一般认真而仔细的对待他。诺里的手指在他的腿上背上若有若无的抚摸，让他浑身热痒，出了一层薄薄的细汗。  
“先生您终于不那么苍白了。”诺里亚斯含糊不清的说着，舌头舔湿了胸前一大片。  
他看着他的学生。小诺里和他哥哥一样有着灵河恩赐的控影之术，却不似西里斯如死人一般青白。他被阳光吻过的皮肤年轻健康，正如他的灵魂，坚强且纯洁。而他的哥哥...正是他天杀的的哥哥带来了天边虎视眈眈的阴影。  
古萨尔勉力抬起头来，看着大帐停止摇动的顶棚。风停了，月亮升起来。帐子的布幔上结了冰霜，稀薄的月光柔柔铺开，颜色凉得他心底发慌。小诺里俯在他身上，被一块漆黑的阴影包围。  
他突然间很害怕。不祥的预感愈加强烈，他扯住青年的头发。诺里亚斯却会错了意。年轻人支起身子，吻上他的唇。诺里的唇上有被风吹裂伤口的血味。  
他尝了半生，却始终没有习惯的血味。

青年的忍耐终于达到上限。诺里抬起腰，急躁却不失仔细的涂抹油膏之后从身后唯一的入口径直挺进去。他不疼，血味却蔓延开来，仿佛在战场上迎面砍倒敌人时陡然浓烈的气味。他想着穆棱在骨山上剥熊皮时是不是闻见这样的味道，他想着云玲给病人缝合伤口时闻见的是不是这个味道。古萨尔清楚的记得他亲手将导师打成飞灰的时候，这个味道铺天盖地。他们这辈人都已经老了，对此都不陌生；而眼前的孩子，却还未亲身经历鲜血。  
他希望他永远不要。  
诺里抓住他，静止片刻后便开始律动。粘稠的油膏混着血丝顺着动作从结合的缝隙渗出，与战斗受伤不同的刺痛从下身升起，窜入四肢百骸。他不熟悉这种半是欣喜半是折磨的感觉，这是一种未知武器造成的未知伤害。  
“先生，先生...您好温暖...”青年舔舐着他的耳郭，胸口蹭着他的胸膛，一只手插在他的发间抚摸。  
下身的痛楚直到油膏彻底部署均匀后才渐渐消散。青年前后晃动的身体在陡然明亮起来的皂白月光里勾勒出浑然天成的曲线。他刚刚发育完全的肩头尚且圆润，而撑在他身旁的手臂已经凸显出经年握剑的强壮肌肉。诺里的剑用的很好。他叹息一声，这孩子的一切都是他教的，就连鱼水之欢也要拿他来当教具。好学生年轻的身体上完满的灰白色光弧让他看着一时恍惚。  
日子竟是一晃就过了。  
他的腰开始酥软，一波一波奇异的感觉丝丝缕缕在他血管中流窜。他挺起身来让自己好受些，可是全身没有一丝力气。他抱住青年的肩膀，深深的喘息。  
“小诺里...”  
他的学生一手握住他的前端。“您终于这么叫我了。已经很多年了，先生，很多年了...”  
“我的明光啊。”他把脸埋在学生的颈窝里。“你要好好的活着，嗯？”  
“嗯。”诺里咬着他的侧颈。  
他抬起头，捏了捏小诺里的脸颊。“向我保证。”  
“我保证。”  
青年人加快了冲刺的速度，撞的他一上一下的颠簸，撞得他四肢都软成了棉花，动弹不得。他连呼吸的力气都没有了，本来无声的进气出气变成了轻轻地哼声。诺里似乎收到了鼓励，将他一条腿支起，进攻进行到新的深度。  
他哽咽一声，勉力抓住年轻人的肩膀。  
“小诺里，你长大了。现在这么的沉，我抱不动你了。”他半开玩笑的拍拍学生的肩膀，却因为突然用力的抽插乱了气息。  
“我抱您就行啦。”  
诺里将他翻了个面，在他肚子下垫上枕头让他舒服一些。  
“我数了一下您胸前的伤，一共十八道。您不疼吗？”小狼崽沿着他背上的伤痕吻着，留下一个个青紫的印记。  
“疼过了。”  
他盯着床头。月光终于落到地上，像一滩影影绰绰水。床头的烛火在磨砂玻璃后面明明灭灭，像是天光藏在昏暗的浊云后面，呈一种爆裂般的姿势，挣扎出一星半点亮色。  
他在扑天灭地的颤栗快感中昏昏沉沉的回忆起相似的晨曦。  
他邪恶导师的高塔燃起熊熊烈火，四散奔逃的仆人发出冲天的刺耳尖叫，火光将天空烧的通红。导师养的一对药男药女呜咽着没了气息。火烧了一整夜。  
还有什么时候有着这样的天呢？  
雨厅的巍崖下巨大洁白的商船扬帆的某一天，候鸟停在他新建白塔离天空最近的尖上的某一天，风庭城外的草甸鲜花盛开的某一天。好的日子，坏的日子，每个重要的日子都有着美丽的天空。  
还有他在白草原上找到装着诺里亚斯的篮子的那一天。天上红霞将现未现，天光将出未出。和今日一模一样。  
热流冲进身体深处时，似乎乳白色的晨曦也同时迸发，满目的灿灿白辉。他的学生抱着他，就像他抱着小时候的他一样。  
他小小的诺里亚斯，从哭着不肯喝奶，到闹着要吃烧鹅，再到乖乖的一口一个先生。他教他识字，教他使剑，教他一切他会的东西。一天一天的，他的小孩子长大了。他有了坚实的臂膀，能够独当一面了。  
时间过得太慢，有时候他都忘记了给那个浑身颤抖的小婴孩取名字的情形。时间又过得太快，好像两年前诺里成年的授剑礼还是昨天。  
一夜的胡闹不足以将他击倒，但不知何时心中的悲喜交加让他的泪水濡湿了诺里的臂膀。  
他抬起脸，看着青年健壮的身躯在光里泛着古代龙石一般的光泽。他突然感到怜惜，却在伸手之前被诺里紧紧环住。含着血味的吻堵住了他未出口的话。  
回去吧，我的明光。  
你哥哥来了。  
小诺里似乎听见了他的心声，皱了皱眉，展开新的一轮攻势。  
等到晨曦真的到来时，他全身酸痛的连手指都抬不起。诺里乖乖的按摩他的一把老骨头，使他不至于太辛苦。  
“您放心，风庭我会好好守护。我答应过您，一定会保护好自己。”  
诺里保守了他的诺言。他悄悄的上马，在风雪中离开，马蹄印子很快被新雪覆盖，好似从没有人来过。他突然间觉得有些苦涩。听着诺里亚斯渐行渐远，他隐隐觉得这会是他们最后一次分别。

他是对的。  
古萨尔在雪地里躺着。他并不冷，喉头汩汩的鲜血温暖着他，同时也把暖意从他体内抽离。死亡的预兆从不出错。

“我最亲爱的萨尔啊，经过这么多年的争斗，最终还是我赢了。”  
缚影者西里斯扔掉手里的小刀，亲吻过他冰冷的双唇后转身离开。刀尖上的鲜血一滴一滴，好似标注着诺里亚斯前天来的路。

“冥界是我的了，萨尔。不管是死是活，你终归要和我在一起。” 缚影者回头向他微笑。


	10. 【自白】一个小透明在同人生态圈乞讨的故事

一个小透明在同人生态圈乞讨的故事  
我是个走四方专跳坑的小乞丐。  
每次坑里哪里良田丰收就会有人在空中悬浮的大喇叭里喊“吃粮啦”。  
坑之间是高地，坑里有绳梯可以叫人轻易爬出去。  
有些坑土壤肥沃人口众多产出的粮食品种繁多但是质量参差不齐奸商还多。  
有些坑小一些，但是里面有好酒楼食肆，菜贵量少品种少，但是真香。  
因为没有工作，在没有大丰收的时候只能靠着坑里富人施粥过日子。  
住也只能住在人多拥挤的小院子里。  
后来有一天，我在野地里走寻找能煮粥的野菜，看见一队骑鹿的人马走过，个个身量高挑面目英秀，领队的金发蓝眼笑容豪爽，一看就知道是某坑的坑主。我跟着队伍走，到了一个世外桃源。站在峡谷口，我看见一位貌若好女眼似繁星的温和医者上来迎接，心里明白自己找到了个好地方。我每天待在火焰厅里，经常有制作精巧的大餐吃，餐后还有糖水。偶尔还有音乐剧听呢。我心满意足，以为自己终于脱贫了。  
但好景不长。骑鹿的英俊坑主离开了。他的儿子来接他了。坑里会为我准备食物的富贵人家都跟着他走了。我也走了。在走出去的路上，我看见一个年老秃顶笑容猥琐的医者，和一个妖艳放荡矫揉造作的陌生人。  
我在坑之间的高地上走着走着，感觉饿了。忽然闻到一阵馄饨香，赶紧跳下那个坑往香味源头去了。我看去，一顶白丝绸的大帐篷下摆了好多方桌，桌上一碗碗热腾腾的馄饨，不少人已经在吃了。我跑去坐下，吞下一大口，哟哦，还是海鲜馄饨。我吃饱了站起来跟老板道谢。老板说，常来常来啊，以后馄饨里包的肉会越来越多呢。我说好，又看到隔壁摊子也有馄饨，就去尝尝，是有点苦的马猴馄饨，挺好吃。每天我换着摊子吃，越吃越不对劲。馄饨里肉是多了，但是越来越腻味。包的也越来越随便了。我想，算了，饿着也比这样强。我又走了。  
才刚出去呢，身后就传来消息，说是馄饨铺子那个坑受了冰灾，里面的人全跑了。  
我慢悠悠去到一个门口写着”藕得三扭三，掐架三三三”的坑。进去，天上一大碗红烧肉掉下来，我吃得呼噜呼噜，舔舔嘴唇意犹未尽的时候地下突然伸出一只干枯的手来，举着一卷一边尖叫一边作势咬人的竹简，竹简里又影影绰绰飘出人影来，对我又是哭又是笑，还嚷嚷着“那不是我，不是我啊。”我吓得拔腿就跑，跑回高地上的家里。  
回到院子，发现后院长蘑菇，我试着做蘑菇汤，寡淡无味但是能充饥。  
后来例行去领粥的时候在路上捡到钱，准备去耀和楼吃饭，看见一家新大酒店，是一家匾额上写了”诚”字的高楼。里面传来的味道过于甜腻，门口又放着一个盘着条大蛇的青花瓷瓶子，于是我就没有进去。走到耀和楼，发现里面来了个大厨，脖子上系着红围巾。我匆匆吃了两口她的菜，就听见外面有人呼喊“台风来了！”  
台风过后有条货船沉在岸边。我去打捞，发现没进水的仓库里有本残缺的精美台历，以及蜂蜜棒棒糖丁香陈皮各种东西，最后还发现一个箱子，里面放着乌头勾吻，还掺杂大量黄连。我拿着这些东西去换了可多银钱，吃了一顿八大碗，有吃了全肉宴，有什么糖醋小排呀。东坡肉呀。咕咾肉呀，鱼香肉丝呀，虎皮尖椒牛肉粒呀，还有什么炭烧羊肋苦参炖蹄花什么的。吃腻了，又花点钱买糖。  
我坐在军校的台阶上吃肉丸，在四合院里吃芝麻糊，在巴黎的学院门口羡慕的看着坑主们手上的表，又在跟着他们回到小公寓的时候赫然发现糖袋子里不知何时被放了黄连粉和小刀片。  
我离开了春日的巴黎，回到漏风的小院子里。我的糖袋子里糖全吃完了，只剩下一摞摞擦干净的刀。我想，刀也挺好看的嘛，为什么不卖出去赚点小钱呢？我知道这是可行的，毕竟我的乞丐小伙伴们好多都喜欢把刀放嘴里含一含，再送给坑里慷慨且富有的太太们。  
然而囊中刀不够多，只能再去游荡，再去寻觅。  
我正走着路呢，路过郊外一座坟。坟被人挖开了，露出一个铜门来。门外有个人捧着个瓶在哭，身边围了一大圈人跟着一起哭。哭声惹得我烦心，刚要发作，便见到三个人脖子上戴着摸金符扛着铁锹过来了。他们把少男一绑，扔进门里，又把坟填了。  
我心下感激，大喊道“壮士留步！”但他们没留下，只是飞快的挖了地道走了，留下八卷金灿灿的卷轴来。我知道，这就是神圣的原著了。  
我读完，深深叹息。这书好，可惜...我看看，发现被填了的坟又出现几扇门，还有人唱戏，围观的越来越多，哭的也愈发乱了。我摇摇头，果然声势大才是硬道理。  
这时候，从我身后扑过来一个相熟的乞丐，头上别着一朵娇艳的百合。  
“哎呀快来快来，”她扯着我跑，跑到一条魑魅魍魉横行的街上。她抱起一只被冻成冰块长翅膀的狗，我抱起一只叼着鱼的狗。我摸摸狗头，又摸摸鱼尾。有一位贵人走来总了我一盒酥饼，底下藏了把冰雕的刀。突然。有只狗追着一只狐狸狂奔过来撞倒了我，后面还跟着一大群人“崽崽！崽崽！”地叫。我不高兴，努力爬起来。相熟的小乞儿往街角指去，只见一片红叶掉在酒葫芦上，一只狐狸嘴里叼着苹果糖。我开心起来，带着叼鱼的狗回家，煮了排骨吃，又拿筒子骨喂狗。我吃得正高兴，一个不小心鱼飞走了，飞到一个身边有日月环绕的孩子手里。我正想去把鱼抢回来，却看到鱼被一个锦衣华服的太太夺了去，直直捅进一个粉发男孩眼睛里。太太冲我笑，我却怕得很，掉头逃了。  
跑着跑着，差点撞到人。我抬头一看，浩浩荡荡一对洋人冲了过来，领头的是个拿锤子的怀里还抱着个人。我赶快闪到一旁，心有余悸。  
这一番惊险让我顿觉手无缚鸡之力是不可行的。我跑到一家铁匠铺去，稍微学了一下铸刀，虽然不是很好，但也勉勉强强过得去了。我把刀片包在红团子里叫人家吃，还赚些赏钱，相熟的买家也有些了，后来又认识一位武林高手，常蹭他带来的各色小吃。我工作勤恳的，又拿买刀的钱入了个小丐帮。里头原本觉得挺和谐，后来才知道有些小乞儿太缺人夸，一天不顺顺毛就一哭二闹三上吊，一边哭一边还以为自己挺大的本事被辜负了。我一边嘴上夸着，一边心里骂着。咱们不都是做些馊粮吗，要是真好吃我们早就变成有名望的太太了，哪里还会是小乞儿。人贵有自知之明啊。  
后来，红糯米团销量差了，坑里遭了冰灾，我退了帮，走了。  
在家里蹲着的时候，翻出来小时候看的动画。小动物的，觉得有意思。我常去的拟人坑里头有些惊才绝艳的太太们也喜欢这动画，讲江湖侠义的。我去看了看人形画展，觉得真妙。回头躺在床上，思来想去又觉得不妙。哎呀，惨了。我怎么又喜欢上了一个住在极北的魔教老坑主呢？我去坑里看了看，情形叫人扼腕。哎呀，谁是夫谁是妇又要和大伙儿闹不同了。  
我吃下两碗沾了血冷冰冰的燕麦粥，拖着冻僵的脚走到一篇冰封的原野上。我举起铲子，挖出一个浅坑，竖起一面大旗，又做一大锅热腾腾的肉放在坑的正中央。有几个人来了又走，一个留下的都没有。我看着白茫茫的荒凉大地，心里戚戚然。哎呀，我想，要不要去那些个热带的坑里看看呢？虽然会很乱，虽然里面党争呀帮派火拼呀ky背后捅刀呀真可怕...但是吃得饱。要不要去呢？我这么想着，僵硬着腿回了家。  
洗了澡后，我躺在小破床上，回味以往吃过不同的粮。  
我是酷爱席面的。菜肴精工细作荤素和颐肥瘦得当苦甜皆有，最好吃不过席面了。不过，吃多了胃里会撑得慌，心里也堵得慌。况且，席面很少能吃完的，布菜的太太们有时候半路就走了，或者突然就放任厨子随便做，生了糊了味错了食材错了都不管，菜里一点坑主的风格都没了。有时候，好席面吃的烧心，叫我难过的睡不着。这时候，就应该去吃肉或者吃点甜食。肉好吃，也好找。在我还是个小乞丐的时候见着肉就扑上去，也不管是不是馊的，也不管肥瘦和烹调风格，吃下去不少坏东西。后来，我意识到肉就是那几种烹调方式，就宁缺毋滥了。甜食也是一样的，原来吃到蛀牙，天天被甜齁。后来啊，发现糖里有毒，还经常是在各个坑里流传的。糖就那几种，别具一格的口味又糖度适中的少极了，绝大多数都腻到叫人觉得似曾相识认不出是哪个坑里产出的。我分外怀念席面了。  
可我是乞丐呀，哪里天天有席面吃。有人施舍白粥就不错了。  
我饿的哭起来。  
背后有个人抱住我。我惊讶的转头，是一个金发男人，戴着黑铁王冠，眼里烈焰熊熊。  
“是你...”我有些难以置信。  
“嗯。”他点点头，有些强硬的拉起我的手将我推到衣柜前。  
“你是不是忘了什么？”他问我。我摇摇头，刚准备回答，他就牵着我的手将柜子门打开了。  
我一看，满眼都是发着柔光的一摞摞原著卷轴，和乱七八糟的一堆纸。  
我的眼泪又淌下来。他拿起纸堆最上面的一张递给我。  
“你不是最喜欢啃着原著写你喜欢的坑主的性格分析吗？你不是最喜欢考据，喜欢吃粮的时候对同伴说怎么怎么味道不对和原著设定不符的吗？还有那些从来没有阔的脑洞，就这么被你抛弃了吗？”  
他抬起我的脸，叫我看着他。  
我已经很久没有觉得他这样迷人。这些年，我忙于在坑与坑之间奔波，忘了还有个本命在等我。我忘了自己最喜欢吃他烧的菜，最喜欢听他说话，最喜欢他的面容他的性格他的思想。  
现在再认真看他，只觉得当年的我脑子比现在好使的多。  
“你喜欢我七年了。”他说着，变成一只巨大燃烧的眼睛。  
我站在黑塔下，岩浆在我脚边流过。  
“我喜欢你！” 我仰起头大喊。  
“我最喜欢你！”  
“我非常喜欢你！”

我是个走四方的乞丐，走到哪吃到哪。我很幸福，因为我不再漂泊无依。


	11. 【西幻】Ashen Heart: A Gnome’s Tale

Ashen Heart: A Gnome’s Tale

Once upon a not so very distant time, there was a not so very special Gnome walking on perfectly normal road. Gnomes don’t have names because gnomes aren’t special, so this gnome is just the Gnome. The Gnome walked under the sun, and he slept under the stars. Nobody knew who he was, and he did not know anyone. He walked on the road, and he never left the road.

Earlier, just a day or two before, something remarkable happened. The notorious great Fire Drake of the Northern Sundering Realm was slain by an unknown adventurer - or maybe, it was several. None of the inhabitants who lived by the Drake’s lair remembered them passing, and they left no other trace than a dead dragon with a pit of ash where his heart belonged. The Drake’s death was of enormous significance to the locals, of course. It was a dangerous fire breathing dragon who died, everyone thought, because dragons deserved to die. When someone or something deserves to die, the public rejoices. The mystery of the hero associated with this act was a hot topic amongst all the inns and taverns of the land. It was novel to speculate over a fine dinner of Simmered Cave Hog with Mustard Cobbler and a stein of Giants’ Ale. Certainly, a favourite of discussion amongst men who like spending long hours in dark rooms, speaking in raucous tones of irreconcilable hypotheticals. 

This fevered excitement went on for a month, by which point the Gnome had finally returned home. He reflected upon the day, just over two months ago, when the first sign of strangeness entered his perfectly comfortable, not so very special life.

It was a summer’s day - one so essentially summery that you might describe it as too ordinary to be interesting. The Gnome returned home from a hard day’s toil at the silver mine, and planned to make himself a nice pot of chocolate drink. He walked into his den and was startled to behold a strange man sitting on his couch.

“That’s my couch!”, he protested suddenly. Even still, the Gnome handed his mysterious interloper a mug of his favourite chocolate drink. One had to be a polite, and gracious host, after all. 

 

The strange man was puzzled by the Gnome’s overly-Gnomish gesture. He hesitantly replied as his own kind does, but he did not give up the couch.

The Gnome pulled up a chair, sat in front of the man, and looked at him. 

His face seemed ageless, his hair copper red, and his eyes were of the darkest black - a thick, oily darkness. The man’s stature was such that he was too tall to fit on the Gnome’s couch without awkwardly bending his knees and hunching his back. He seemed terribly uncomfortable, the Gnome continued, I hope he won’t think me a terrible host.  
“What can I do for you at this hour?”, the Gnome queried, trying to conceal his voracious curiosity in a way that did not make him seem impolite. 

He could not help but notice that this man, although very handsome, was adorned in a very ancient style of attire.

“I want to talk to you, that’s all.” 

As the anonymous traveller spoke, his voice reminded the Gnome of the pet lizard that the girl Gnome next door used to have. His thoughts turned elsewhere. The Gnome was racking his brain in search of, what a not-so-very-special- miner and a conspicuously noble person, could possibly have to talk about. 

Before he had finished his thought, the man disappeared.

 

These sorts of encounters went on for four days. The man always appeared out of thin air on his couch at night, and the only thing that changed is that his stature seemed to shrink day by day. The Gnome could not help but derive a sort of private relief that the man seemed less and less uncomfortable sitting in the spot he always occupied.

 

“Do you know anything about dragons?”, the man finally asked him, while enjoying a Blood Orange Cookie baked by the old miner.

 

“Sure I do! There weren’t a single creature around who aint heard about the great Fire Drake of the North!” 

The Gnome’s mouth was so stuffed with food that his words came out as a string of almost indistinguishable sounds. But the man understood nonetheless.

 

“Why do dragons kill and plunder, sir? You seem learned in the ways of the Drake and I think you might know.”

 

“Oh,” the dark eyed man yawned. “They were made that way. You know, dragons are different from any other creatures in the world. They do not have a soul. What is inside of them is closer to an unsatisfying void.” 

As he ended his sentence, the man gave let out a powerful belch. It seemed to shake the walls of the Gnome’s tiny, thatched roof house. 

The Gnome was not happy with what the man said.  
“Poppyblemish! Of course dragons have a soul! We Gnomes believe even them gemstones we dug up has their owns souls, or else why would they shine so bright?!” The Gnome showed his protest by not pouring the man a glass of his favorite thick chocolate drink. 

“You are a curious little fellow. You may just be right. I’d never thought of it that way.” The man finally poured a cup for himself, and for the Gnome as well.

“Well, they don’t have free souls, then. Their lives are predestined, their character predetermined. You see, all dragons love shiny treasures, but not all Gnomes love chocolate, do they? A deep want has been implanted in all dragons when they are conceived, and they are bound by fate to sate their thirst for whatever it is they set their mind to. No matter how hard they fight against it, it is a hopeless battle.”

The Gnome looked at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t understand why anything would be intentionally created with flaws.”The man went back to the couch, and sank comfortably into it. 

“Isn’t that just one of the great questions of life!? Oh, I must praise you for having such a cozy little quarter.” The man closed his eyes like he was about to doze off. 

The Gnome did not try to wake him because he knew when the man really needed to go to sleep that he would just simply disappear into thin air. 

 

“What about my home?” He spoke in the same tone as a child would upon being told they just had their last candy of the day. “It’s just my house, and a not-so-very-special one at that.”

“Many of my fellow beings would give up everything for a place such as yours.” The slender man spoke slowly in a sleepy voice. “You know, a feather bed is so much better than a slab of harsh, golden metal. Those pointed jewels really jab your stomach when you lay on it for too long.” 

The Gnome was confused at the man’s sudden infatuation with his home and his bed.

He continued :

“ Dragons -- dragons, they care too much -- and yet, too little about their treasures. They shed blood for their gold, and yet they don’t even know how to fix a loose scale on a suit of armour. See, dragons don’t do anything with their blood stained gold. Why do they pursue it more and more then? It’s that burning hunger inside. That drive for more. You must eat when you are hungry right? Gnomes are smart people, unlike dragons.” 

The man opened his eyes and blinked.

The Gnome’s eyes lit up. “That’s gotta be true. We Gnomes are said to be the most free spirited people you ever did think of.”

“Of course you are,” said the man, very seriously this time, “this is precisely why I came to find you.”

 

“Drakes don’t have the choices you have. Now, knowing you are bound by a heavy chain and you have no chance breaking it, would you still try?”

 

“I would.” The Gnome said aloud, with all the seriousness that the question demanded. 

 

“It is a hopeless battle, as you said before. It's just...I am wondering if the great Fire Drake of the north would be able to win this battle if he was put in this situation.” 

Our Gnome handed the man a cookie this time, but the man did not accept.

“He would not, I dare to tell you.”

The man disappeared into thin air as he spoke.

The Gnome had a strange dream that night -- the strangest one he had ever experienced. He saw a grey world, endlessly dour. The sky was the same colour as the sandy ground, making it very hard to tell them apart. Maybe there was no difference anyways, the Gnome thought.

Many people were walking on sandy paths going in all directions. They were all grey and withering, no matter whether they were human, gnome, goblin, orc, or elf. Everyone looked terribly alike, with the only distinct difference being a lantern they held tightly like a chalice in their extended hands. They were not real lanterns, but closed crystals, and each being had a different colour from the one next to them. 

 

“What are those lights?”, he asked himself aloud.

Someone answered. “They are the hearts of the dead.”

The Gnome noticed a man standing beside him, in the air, above the sandy ground.

“The dead?”

 

“Yes, the dead. You are now seeing into the realm of the night，my friend.”

“The hearts?”

“After a person dies, he takes out his heart and hold it like he holds his first born son.”

“But why do they hold their own heart?”

“So that it doesn’t disappear,” The man said so in a kind voice, like he meant what he said.

 

“You see the colours? Those are the emotions the person had in his life. The bursting yellow happiness, sticky blue sadness, burning orange passion, shrieking green jealousy, the misty pink of love and want, and also the red of clinking-clanking courage. They are all there, in people’s crystal hearts, lighting their way on the sandy road that will guide them to their own resting place.”

The Gnome did not know what to say. He had never thought what death would be like.

“But only beings with a free soul can be guided by their hearts. My dear friend, please look at my heart.”

The Gnome looked. He saw the man's heart. It was hard, big, and filled with black oily things which the Gnome would not name. That heart emitted no light.

“What you see is a dragon's heart, my dear Gnome.”

The Gnome stood speechless.

 

“What you see inside is the desire and want that all my kin are born with. This sticky darkness eats everything. It eats our minds, and it eats the lives of others. So please, would you please be a kind Gnome to a poor old Drake?”

 

“Help you? How can I help you?” It was strange, even to the Gnome himself, that he did not ask why he should help, or why he didn’t instantly refuse.

 

“Come to the Northern Sundering Realm. Find me on midsummer's day.”

The Gnome woke up, and as his eyes opened he realized that he recognized the man in his dream. It was his mysterious visitor.

The Gnome did as he was told and made out for the Northern Sundering Realm on a midsummer’s day. It was a not-so-very-special day that would have all the makings of one to remember. 

When he got there, the great Fire Drake had already been mortally wounded by a throng of careless adventurers. The Gnome knew now, that the dragon wanted and allowed his death to happen. The lives of dragons are predestined after all, and his strange visitor was an embodiment of the Drake’s chained, tortured soul.

 

“You are here right on time, my friend.”, the beautiful red dragon with dark eyes hissed as he spoke.

 

The Gnome was not shocked by the Drake’s instant familiarity. Did he always know who or what the man was? The Gnome had no answer.

 

A pool of black blood had accumulated upon the gold which the dying dragon laid on. The gold so bright that it stung his eyes, and the black blood was so dark that it weighed heavily upon the Gnome’s soft heart. What the Gnome saw was not a sinful dragon, but a wonderful scaled creature with the greatest courage and resilience. Not everyone dared or wanted or tried to fight his own dark nature, yet this most unlikely, seemingly sinister Drake did. The Gnome knew he could not say this to the dragon, because the dragon believed that he was deserving of blame. 

“You foresaw them coming didn’t you? Else’ how could you know when exactly I would come?” , the Gnome said angrily, trying to fight his tears back.

“Please, good Gnome, burn my heart, Burn it with my own fire till there is nothing left.”

 

“This is how I am supposed to help you? How are you going to find your way in the realm of the dead without a heart?”

 

The dragon’s jaw moved like he was smiling.

 

“I saw withered souls with the dimmest hearts make it to their ends. The way of death was not long, and I have wings, surely I can make it. My heart...is dark and heavy. It is not a light, and the chain bound to my soul I could never break on my own. It would only drag me down into the sand and bind me there for eternity. I shall be free, after all these years of trying...”

The light in the dragon’s eyes dimmed.

“Burn my heart, and I shall be free.”

The dragon fire burst into brilliant light the moment it touched the black heart and ruthlessly consumed it. The Gnome watched it turn into ash, through a sea of tears.

He would never tell those horrible legends about the Fire Drake to his children. They were not true, and he was not just a dragon. He was born with a dark heart, but malice never ruled him. In his own fierce fire, with a little help from the little Gnome, he cleansed himself and was now free from the heavy chains of burden.

The Fire Drake was great indeed, thought the Gnome, and he had won that hopeless battle.

The not-so-very-special Gnome walked down the not-so-very special road, listening to the people talk about the evil Drake and his defeat. He swallowed a bitter frown, and kept walking. The Gnome walked under the sun, and he slept under the stars. Nobody knew who he was, and he did not know anyone. He walked on the road, and he never left the road.

The Gnome wondered on the road for a long long time, long enough that the topic about the dragon and the hero was no longer interesting. Everyone forgot about this Fire Drake, and everyone forgot about the hero.

After a month, his peaceful Gnomish hometown came into view. He found his ordinary green round door and pulled out a not-so-very-special looking key. After a familiar squeak, the door opened and was standing in his average Gnomish parlor. He walked into the den that he had spent so many evenings speaking with the Drake. 

In the place where the Drake had sat was a very special red scale.


	12. 【SD】Merry As I Was 背景和大纲啥的

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 语法错误哈哈哈啊哈哈哈哈哈

Hard yet Warm!Stannis / Quiet yet Snarky!Davos Modern AU

Davos was a seemingly honest man of 35 who owned a decently sized plantation which mainly produced onions and a tiny fish farm that produced salted fish. Secretly, however, he also planted poppies, and the purified products were smuggled by himself across the channel to Essos. He was a poor man despite his illegal trade, the reason being that he had adopted seven sons of different ages, the eldest three were in university and the others were also planning to do so. Dale was in third year, Allad was in second, Matthos was in first, and Maric was finishing high school. He had no daughters, for the overprotective orphanage would not trust a girl with an old unmarried man whom, somehow, looked like he was not as true as he seemed to be.  
Davos indeed was not clean. He had been jailed multiple times, as well as being in private lockups of mob bosses.  
He was once caught by an Essosi mob boss as he smuggled narcotics over the channel and decided to not pay respect to this local crime leader. He lost four of his left finger tips in exchange for proper payment that he desperately needed to feed his family. He told his sons that this injury was caused by getting his hand stuck in a machine, and they all believed him. When Davos was 30, his elder four sons found out the truth behind his maimed hand and what he truly did for a living, and they left him and the farm. They didn't want to be associated with a drug dealer. Davos believed that they made the right choice, and he believed that being his son indeed would block them from a successful future and even put their lives in danger. He recognized this long ago, as he made his sons keep their old names, not changing it to Seaworth. However, although his four elder sons no longer considered him father, he still saw them as his good sons. He sent them money anonymously, so that they had cash to spend without the danger of the origin of the money being traced back to him. His two younger sons burned to death in a daycare a year after the eldest four left, and that grief cut deep. After these incidents, Davos was fully convinced that he was not fit to be a father, and he wanted to send his now only son, Devan, to live with his caring brothers. However, Devan decided to stay. Davos thought that the gods were punishing him for his smuggling business and he ought to stop. Without his illegal income, the earnings from onions and fishes were not enough, so he had to sell sixty percent of his farm’s share to earn a big sum of money that would sustain Devan’s private school education, proper attire, and his other sons through university, as well as having just enough to scrape by for himself.

Davos never encouraged Devan to talk about him or his farm to other people in fear that if one day he was captured, Devan would be shamed and bullied for having a criminal as a father. He never went to any parent meetings, because Devan did not want to see the lowborn Davos among the rich and famous parents of his classmates. Like so, no one from Devan’s school had seen Davos or know where Devan lived other than Shireen. 

Devan was actually very popular among his peers. People never seemed to notice the fact that he lacked a father or a mother. He was not bullied in any form. His personality and his charm won everyone over. He was a handsome young boy with honey coloured hair, fair skin and light blue eyes. He was also very warm, which was very unlike the snarky Davos, and he had a quick wit, which was very like Davos. His best pal was Rickon Stark, and his closest friend was Shireen Baratheon. She was the shy and quiet one, and people picked on her because of how she looked, but Devan loved her as a sister. Interestingly, before Rickon, the wild natured yet fiercely intelligent boy, became friends with Devan, he was jealous of him being so close to Shireen. After he discovered that they were just friends, he accepted Devan’s befriendment. Rickon had a little but long lasting crush on Shireen, and Shireen also liked him very much.  
Davos was the son of a captain’s mistress. The captain sent very little money home, so he and his mother lived in the slums of Kingslanding, on Flea Bottom road. He passed elementary school easily, but could not afford to go to middle school. When he was 12 years old, his mother stole way at night and never came back. He saw her later, married to a rich man 30 years older than her. He managed to go on the ship Cobble Cat, and studied under the once notorious cartel, the Blind Bastard. After the Blind Bastard was executed, Davos sold the Cobble Cat, purchased this farm and started his own narcotics business. He was 17 by then. A year later, when he earned enough money to live more comfortably, he adopted his first son, Dale, a four year old boy, smart and kind, and in whom Davos placed all his hope and love. He found Dale infront of his door on a winter night, almost froze to death. He invited the boy into his house. The boy stayed.  
Davos never got married. He visited the Dark Room three times in his youth, and deeply regretted it. Because of his defiled body, he never hoped for a relationship. He paid all his attentions to his sons, and lived alone.

Stannis was a hard and just man of 30 who was the CEO of the famous Baratheon cooperation. This giant company had its shares in media, infrastructure, entertainment, medicine, and other fields. Notably, Stannis’ elder brother, Robert Baratheon, was the president of Great Septania, and the Baratheon cooperation had Renly, Stannis’ younger brother and beloved movie star, famous for his marvelous acting in “Rainbows and Peaches” under its agency. The Baratheon cooperation was getting its foot into agriculture by purchasing big food production companies and bought shares in the ones they did not buy. Stannis on the other hand however, laid an eye on a plantation that did not do exceptionally well, mainly for his daughter, a not so beautiful (she has a plum birthmark on her left cheek) but good hearted girl, Shireen, a product of an unfortunate marriage that ended two years ago, to have a place to run and play in.

Shireen was 10 years old, a true academic genius, and she went to the same school as Devan. They had a very close friendship. Her female best friend was Arya Stark. Devan told Shireen that his father had beautiful red flowers on his farm, and he took Shireen to see it a year ago, before his younger brothers died. What Shireen saw then were poppies. Shireen visited the farm with Devan again a year later, before her father was about to negotiate his purchase of the shares with Davos. She saw roses instead of poppies. She was very smart and correctly guessed many things. She only share her thoughts with Devan. They never told anyone what they thought. She loved this farm and Devan nonetheless.

Stannis never loved his brothers, he did not hate them either. He was treated fairly by his family, and he got his piece of cake just fine. After his parents died on a cruise that sank, Robert acted as a responsible elder brother and supported him and Renly through their youth. His youth was never hard, the Baratheon family was rich, and he was taken care of very well. But 11 years ago the Baratheon cooperation faced a serious economic crisis. They were threatened by the Tyrell Trusts, and his family business almost collapsed. Robert, along with his best friend, business partner, and secret lover, Eddard Stark, the young owner of the Winterfell’s Crypt . Co fought the Tyrells. It was the hardest year in Stannis’ life. They were on the brink of losing all their fortune, their bank accounts all frozen, turning them from billionaires into starving slum dwellers.While Robert fought outside, he stayed at their base, Storms End estate, where he defended the last of the family’s proud history and wealth with his life. He was a considerate child, he often told Robert that he had dined at school, and gave his dinner to Renly, the youngest and most delicate of them three. 

One winter night he was too hungry coming back from school that he almost fainted. Luckily he passed a snow covered field, and was invited into a small house. He faintly remembered a man with a beard, age indistinguishable, dressed in rag like clothes and smelt of salt, sat him down in front of a small fire, and with a soft and faint voice offered him a bowl of thick soup tasted of onions, salted fish, and carrots. The soup was bad, but it was enough to warm his body and save his starving guts. He saw that the man’s left hand was wrapped in blood stained bandages. He also remembered seeing through a slightly ajar door, three boys dressed in soft clean cotton pajamas lying in their feather beds in another much better furnished room with a thick carpet and burning fireplace, peacefully asleep. Stannis did not remember where the field was, and he forgot the man’s face and name. Or maybe the man never told Stannis his name. Stannis remembered the boys, for their surroundings were so much different from the man and his plankroofed den. It was the contrast that he remembered.  
Shortly after this encounter, winter ended, and spring came. The Tyrells subsided, the Baratheons recovered their past glory, and Renly found himself a boyfriend. Because of his contribution to the business warfare, Stannis was given Storm's End, and Renly received Dragonstone to be his love nest with his darling Loras, ironically a Tyrell.  
When he was 20, Robert publicised his love for Eddard. Now the Baratheon family needed an heir, and the task fell on Stannis, the only one who showed no orientation whatsoever.  
He got married with Selyse, the daughter of a prominent family, and had Shireen. They did not love each other, for Selyse loved Melisandre, a beautiful woman, and Stannis, well, he only cared about Shireen and he loved no one. Their marriage continued for nine years without any more physical contact, just because they all agreed to give Shireen a complete family as she grew up. But Shireen was smart, overly intelligent, and she understood it all from a very young age, however no one noticed it.

CHAPTER 1- Fresh. Clean. Simple. Childish.  
Shireen remembering the first time she saw Devan coming to school. The first day of elementary school, a beautiful boy neatly dressed walked to school in the cold. An older man who seemed to be his father but looked nothing like him tied his shoelaces for him near the edge of the woods quite far away from the school, and disappeared. She thought Devan as a weak and dependant boy at first, yet after a day they grew fond of each other.

CHAPTER 2- warm, comforting, hidden tension. Simple wording, slow pace.  
Sevens’ Eve, a family gathering at the Red House, Robert’s residence. Eddard, all of the adopted Stark kids, Robert, Stannis, Shireen, Renly and Loras gathered around the hearth and listened to the outspoken Robert telling his stories with Ned when they were in boarding school and was favored by the old principle and family friend Jon Arryn, listening to Loras talk about Renly and how they met in a Romeo and Juliet fashion, and Arya teasing Shireen about Rickon. Shireen shared a couple concerned thoughts about Devan, but was brushed over by her fathers small argue with uncle Robert.

Chapter 3- cold, wet, silence. Heavy tone. Light and dark imagery. Curt and sharp.  
Fire’s Eve, Davos returned from the funeral home. He had a terrible news for Devan. Stannis and Steffon died from their burns after unsuccessful surgeries a year ago, their daycare caught fire. And now, the funeral home was asking Davos to move the tombs of his sons, for a richer family would like to build a family stone tablet on that patch of land. Davos could not afford to buy a new piece of land for his children even with the pension he got for losing the original piece of land. His only option was to burn the remains of his children and bring their ashes home in urns. 

Chapter 4- glee, joy, irritation, crowdedness. Heat. quick cutting pace.  
Ocean’s Eve, Shireen and his father went for New Years shopping to buy gifts for family members. Traditionally gift exchange happened on Forest’s Eve, the following night. After they found everything for other people, Stannis was looking for something for Shireen in a fancy shop. He saw an ordinary looking man in front of him in line, and because the place was so crowded, he and the man was close enough for him so smell the faint scent of sea salt in the man’s hair, much to his discomfort. He did not notice Shireen’s queer look when she studied the man and the gift he bought. Stannis then took Shireen for a dessert. They saw that man there again, him picked up a frosted cake with a shark drawn on it and left. Stannis failed to see the man’s face both times.

Chapter 5- outdoor and indoor temperature different. Childish.  
Forest’s Eve. Davos brought Devan his gift. Much to his surprise, Davos received four anonymous gifts. He pretend not to care, but truly he is happy enough to die. Devan asked Davos of why he had taken in so many children, why he had no wife and no lover, why his brothers did not came home for three years. Davos hinted about his crime and prepared himself for the eventual departure of now his only son. He did not tell Devan the truth to protect his son from the darkness of the world, and also selfishly to keep his son with him for longer. He feared that Devan will also leave him when he discovered what he did for a living before. He promised himself that he would tell Devan everything when he turned twelve. Devan swore again to never mention his family, for his own good. Devan did not tell Davos that Shireen had already visited their place, twice.  
Shireen opened her gift, asked about her mother, expressed her fondness toward Rickon and her friendship with Devan. Stannis truthfully answered all Shireen’s questions for he respected Shireen and would prefer to treat her as an equal. Shireen hinted at Devan’s changed economic situation as she observed, and she was slightly worried about what was going on at home with Devan. Stannis realized that he indeed never saw Devan’s parents ever, and Shireen confirmed that Devan never talked about them. She remembered the time Devan took her to the farm, and what she saw there made her even more concerned. She remembered the secret talks between her and Devan about Davos. Devan believed her, and he himself guessed the same thing. Devan planned to leave as soon as he turned twelve.

Chapter 6- unfeeling, business like. Salla-seductive, exotic, erotic. Childish secrets.  
Snow’s Eve. Devan called Shireen, they talked about gifts, and Devan was invited to a sleepover. Shireen realized that the man she saw was Devan’s father. Rickon also called Shireen, they talked about their future studies and career. Rickon was also invited to Shireen’s house, but Robb had already planned to take all the Stark kids to see a movie that night. Robert and Stannis met again, talking about the board’s progress on moving the cooperation into the agriculture field. Stannis thought of buying a farm for his quiet Shireen to get closer to nature and be happier. They found out that a decent onion farm not far away was open to sell 60% of its shares. That was good enough for Stannis.  
Davos travelled to the underwater palace of the Pirate Prince Salladhor Saan. They talked about selling the farm and how to raise Devan properly. Davos talked about his childhood, and he didn’t want Devan to grow up like him and live life like him. Salladhor opposed his action of selling the farm, for it would make Davos unable to go back to his old business when rainy days come. They argued with harsh words, yet their fondness of each other never changed. Salla was going to marry his third wife now, and he was urging Davos to find a partner, for he was no longer young. They talked about their own dark history, about Davos’ sons, and about Salla’s new wife.  
Shireen told Devan that she saw Davos, Devan was embarrassed. Shireen told him to love his father who ever he might be, and that she suspected that Davos had already been punished for all his ill deeds. Devan told her that Davos did not go on long voyages like he used to do last year. Davos changed after he lost his younger sons, Shireen told Devan.

Chapter 7-  
The Last Eve. It was considered lucky to work on the last day of the year, and unlucky to work on the first day of the new year. Snow was starting to melt. Stannis went to talk to Selyse about Shireen and the farm and that a boy had a crush on Shireen. The temptress Melisandre showed a vision in the flames, and Stannis saw a bowl of onion soup. Melisandre told him, love is near, but love is also easy to slip away. Stannis left them, grumpy and all, and went to negotiate about the farm.  
Rickon at school, offered Shireen a bundle of roses. Arya and Shireen talked about the fun they could have on a farm, and the little Hound carried Sansa over a puddle of muddy snow melt water. Arya mocked sansa, and Ms. Mordane sent her to the corner.  
Stannis met Davos. The muddy road to the farm was irksome, and the farm stank of onions. Stannis took a tour of the farmhouse, but he recognize neither this place nor Davos. All the nice furnishings in the house were taken away by the the four elder sons, save the ones in the room belong to Devan. Davos did not show Devan’s room to Stannis. He dared not to reveal his connection with Devan, such a beloved child who was promising to have bright future, just like his brothers.  
Stannis returned home, made cookies with Shireen, and Shireen showed him the flower bouquet she got from Rickon. Stannis was mad at Rickon, but Shireen promised him that Rickon was not making fun of her or slighting her. As they were watching TV together, Stannis suddenly thought of Melisandre’s words, and he believed that it meant the flowers given to Shireen and he himself was acting as the bad force that almost made young love slip away. He told Shireen to not be harsh like him, and she was allowed to love whoever she deemed worthy. Shireen kissed his forehead.  
Devan, after woken up by the the howling wind outside as he forgot to close the glass window, slipped into the living room and saw Davos locking up the four gifts into a safe beneath the loose planks of wooden floor. Davos took the two urns off the worn fireplace, polished them and cleaned them with the most delicate care. The missing fingertips stung Devan’s eyes.

Chapter 8-  
New Years Day. It was a tradition that a child should get a truthful answer to a question on this day. Devan asked about the fingertips, but Davos’ answer was not truthful. Shireen asked about Selyse and his father’s love life, much to Stannis’ embarrassment. Robb asked about the first time between Robert and Ned, much to Ned’s embarrassment. Rickon and asked about aunt Lyanna and Uncle Rhaegar.  
Stannis told Shireen about the farm, and Davos told Devan about the farm. The two children apparently knew more than the adults, and they were both happy and worried at the same time. The truth was, Stannis was a better lawyer than businessman. He was too hard on things and perseued pure justice. The Baratheon corporations’ ordinary daily tasks, or the dirtier deeds, were run by Edric Storm, a close cousin of the members of the main Baratheon family. He was much more flexible. Shireen feared of what would happen if Stannis found out that he now share a farm with a late criminal.

Chapter 9-  
Davos went to Salla. He was not feeling well. He dared not to go to a regular hospital, and luckily Salla had a trusted personal doctor. Stannis started to suffer from insomnia, and his nerves got more and more tense day by day. Rickon officially visited the Storms End estate with proper greetings and a gift from Eddard Stark to pay respect to the father of the girl whom he believes that he will spend a lifetime with.  
Devan called Dale after reconsidering Shireen’s advice. He told his brothers that he would stay with Davos, and surprisingly Dale and others were not angry at him, instead asked him to send their love to Davos. Davos came back late that night, and after hearing Devan’s decision and the greetings from Dale and his other sons, he sat in silence in front of a dying fire for a long time. He put Devan to bed, and kissed him on the forehead. He was trying to give all his luck to Devan.  
Shireen had a cardboard craft homework. She and Stannis debated on whether to make a pirate ship or a nice house. After an unnecessary long and serious argument, they settled on the agreement of building a normal merchant ship.

Chapter 10-  
The students brought their crafts to school. Sansa made a little dog, the Hound made a little bird, Robb made Winterfell, Jon made a wall, Theon made a pirate ship, Arya made a sword, Rickon made a chestnut, and Devan made a little submarine.  
Stannis came back from Renly’s Gold Chestnut Award ceremony for his new work “Rainbows and Peaches”, co-starred with Loras. He questioned the taste of young people these days. Then Edric Storm called him on emergency as he found many hidden records from Old Baratheon, Stannis’ father. The Baratheon cooperation was not as clean as Stannis imagined it to be. They made a lot of grey money in the casinos, which they framed as the earnings of a branch of a big olive oil company that they own. Curiously, the olives were supplied by a Essosi Mob boss, whom worked closely with Old Baratheon and was still high up on their payroll. The mob boss was still in good service to the Baratheons, because Robert knew about the deals, understood his values and maintained a constant line of communication with him. Stannis got really mad at Robert for doing such “ugly” things and not telling the family. He also questioned his own moral on what is tully right. Essos was a rough place, Stannis knew, and there was almost no government. If there were no mob bosses in charge and maintaining the order, Essos would be an even worse place. At least for now merchants only needed to pay respects to a few big bosses. If the big shots were not there anymore, merchants might need to buy their ways out of every single split road, or be heavily guarded themselves, both cases spending so much more and risking so much more. 

Chapter 11-  
Stannis confirmed the fact that the Baratheon family is backing up many underground organizations in both Great Septania as well as Essos after confronting Robert. Robert mocked his naivety, and Stannis, being irritated to hell by his new knowledge on their family and by his own moral struggles, bought a pony for Shireen and sent the pony to the farm. He went to the farm in seek of peace. He bought the farm with the intention of bringing relaxation to Shireen. It is he who needed relaxation at the moment, so he went there as well.  
Stannis met Davos the second time. Davos cooked him sister’s stew, while he himself ate a bowl of thin onion soup. Stannis noticed Davos coughing into his gloved left hand. They talked about dishonest and bad doings. Davos (not too regretful yet) told him that a person, when going down a wrong path, might not know what he was being led into in the beginning, and when he finally realized that what he did was wrong, he might not have a chance to escape that life anymore, there were needs and threats that trapped the person in the dark. The man might not be well learned enough to find a job that would pay for all he needs to pay after he escaped from the dark world. Davos believed that a man must do everything to support the ones he loved. Stannis grew suspicious of Davos, as he sounded like he knew that dark world way too well. He decided to never bring Shireen to this place again, but he forgot to take the pony away.

Chapter 12-  
The school gave out another project. The students must write a story about their father. Stannis’ insomnia grew worse, and the only story he could think of was the recurring image of a person in shadow offering him a bowl of onion soup. He told his starvation story to Shireen.(no details should be given yet.)  
Devan and Davos had an argument about this assignment. Davos finally gave in for his son’s marks’ sake. Devan insisted on writing the finger bone story, and Davos told him the true version, but in a fairytale like way. (no details.)  
The stories were shared in class the next day. The Hound talked about how his grandfather (for his father died when he was one and could not tell him anything) was a bodyguard of the President and that he saved the president’s life from a bullet. With the hand of fate at work, Devan and Shireen were too excited to go home and share the stories they heard today with their fathers that in their haste they took one another’s paper.  
Stannis and Davos both read the paper. Stannis’ long suppressed curiosity was woken by the fairytale like story from Devan. He became interested in the queer family of her daughter’s best friend, the father of Devan whom he never saw. Davos, however, did not get anything from the story. He offered soup to many children living in the nearby slums if he had a little more cash that month, and he was just slightly surprised that one of the children was actually a noble born. (again, do not mention details from the story. It should be just said as a story about some soup.)

Chapter 13-  
Devan’s story was about how a box of match traveled on the sea on a little paper boat, and the boat sank. The box of match fell onto a friendly pink jellyfish, many matches fell out of the matchbox. The jellyfish and the matchbox became friends, and the jellyfish sent the matchbox across the channel onto a green field. The sun was good, but the matchbox was sick, as it got wet and mould started to grow on it. The matchbox was trying to cross the forest of green and purple smoke to reach the horse’s circular house. But a group of olive monsters captured the matchbox for the matches inside. The matchbox would not give it to them. He needed to sell them to the horses and meet their demanded amount. He had already lost many matches, and could not afford to give up any more. The olive monsters got angry, and they soaked the matchbox in cold water beneath their dark caves, and threatened to tear him open. The olive monsters treated with the matchbox. They agreed at last, the matchbox would lose four of its corners under the conditions that he sold his matches only to the olive monsters, not to the horses, for they were rivalries. The matchbox know that the matches would be used in a golden house across the sea to do harm to other creatures, but he had to agree. He had mouths to feed, and he must have enough silver to feed them. With his matches, the golden house did much better, and the horses did worse and worse year by year. They were out of business now, it seemed. The matchbox floated back to home on another paper boat, with the silvers it needed to feed all whom he housed in his little cardboard house. The matchbox paid no attention to the mould growing on it, and also ignored its four missing corners. 

Chapter 14-  
Stannis dreamt of his youth. His days after Old Baratheon dies, the lonely school days, the starvation period, the encounter with a shadow of a man in the snow, Robert fell in love with Ned, Loras being introduced to him, Robert staring to climb the political ladder, Renly starred in his first movie, and himself getting married to Selyse.  
Stannis realized that he once indeed longed for love.

Chapter 15-  
Davos was dying. His lungs slowly tortured him as he coughed up more and more blood. He could not afford Salla’s doctor for a real check up, and Salla the old rogue would not spend a penny on him despite their friendship. He had to go to the hospital, and his criminal record in Essos as well as in Great Septania were discovered. He had no legal right to be treated, and he had to go to jail for a few months over a year. Although Davos was clean for a year, the strick Great Septanian Government still needed to punish him for taxation fraud and being a multiple time criminal. He was jailed three times in Essos, but narcotics dealing and smuggling in Essos was no big deal. The non-functioning government could only sentence him to six month in jail, and the mob bosses that he traded with always got him out within six days to ensure the security of the supplies from Davos. He never served full sentences. However, his illegal trade was punished in other ways. He was captured and tortured by rival mob bosses for three times in his whole career. Counting this new one year sentence, Davos was in confinement for seven times, enough for the Seven gods to each punish him once.  
Before he went to jail, he hired a nanny for young Devan, left him the keys to everything and the pins to everything. He also left a very brief letter of confession that he struggled to write.

Chapter 16-  
Devan was absent for three days. Shireen and Rickon were worried.  
Stannis was still thinking about Devan’s story, and he took it to Melisandre to decipher the meaning. Melisandre simply laughed at him and showed him yet another vision, a rotten onion in a cave. Love was dying, she told him, and she smiled mockingly at him, wrapping a an arm around Selyse’s waist.  
Devan called Shireen that night, telling her that Davos was gone, and he had to live with his four brothers.  
Dale, Allard, Matthos and Maric arrived on the farm. They unlocked the secret safe beneath the wooden panels on the floor, and found that it was not a safe, but a big vault, in there was not gold, but things that forced tears out of their eyes, like they were peeling an onion open layer by layer. They checked the bank, and found even more interesting facts about Davos.  
They sent a letter of forgiveness to the prison, hoping that Davos could die in peace.  
Shireen told Stannis about Devan’s father disappearing. Shireen was sad, and Rickon came to console her. Sansa’s pet dog died that day.

Chapter 17-  
Mostly Shireen POV. Everything is wrong. The Baratheon cooperation seemed to get into trouble. Their payrolls were discovered, and they were on the cliff of moral accusation from society. People stopped buying Baratheon products, and the Lannisters were uniting other big companies and trying to turn them against their former business partner, the Baratheons. Shireen was scared, and people tried to bully her more in class, but no one dared to truly be rude to her, for Rickon and Arya were fierce.  
Shireen changed back to the saddest child her family doctor old Cressen had seen.

Chapter 18-  
Shireen and Devan met at the farm. Devan showed her the letter, and she quickly copied it when the boys went out to fetch food. She kept it with her as she went home, waiting for the proper time to show his father this. Stannis to Shireen was the most powerful man, and he must have a way to help Devan’s father, not getting Davos out of jail of course, but to help the disease that was threatening to kill him.  
But the Baratheon family was not doing well itself. Shireen decided to not trouble her poor father with other people’s issues.

Chapter 19-  
Stannis had an emergency meeting with Robert and Renly. Robert’s career as the President was badly influenced by this crisis, as well as Renly’s reputation as a movie star. They were about to take some “immoral” measures to ease this crisis. Stannis struggle between what is right and lawful and what is the best for the family. He had decided.  
Renly was to be the face of apology, because his raving fans would listen to him and love him no matter what. Also, because Renly went to many public charity events, he had a good image in the eyes of the public that made him much more convincing. The Baratheon crisis was quick blamed onto the heads of their father, the Old Baratheon. Renly convinced the public that himself, and his two brothers did not know and had no part in the underground connections. Renly cried in interviews, made false confessions about a family like theirs was not like a normal family. The children were not privileged to the truthful words of parents, and many business secrets they would never know until their parents handed their positions to them. Tragically their parents died on a sunken cruise ship, they never learned all the secrets from their parents. Also, they didn’t have full control over the company anyways, there were also shareholders and the board to consider. With sad family stories and tears on a beautiful face, the people started to forgive them. Stannis was disgusted by the fact that they were blaming other people, especially their dead parent, for their own faults, but he said nothing, because he only recently realized that this world was not the ideal world that everything followed the rules of honesty and justice.

Chapter 20-  
Robert, shortly after Renly turned the anger toward them into compassion, stood up and gave a series of inspirational speeches. He started on a deep self examination, then slowly turned the topic into questioning morality of human nature, about why secrets were not shared among trusted people, why people did treacherous things behind the backs of their allies. He claimed that the Baratheon brothers had no knowledge on the corruption, it was the treacherous people who wanted to ruin the company who did it. He convinced the general public that this CRISIS was solely the fault of some cunning worms with unknown names in the Baratheon Cooperation who did underground deals and violated the good of the whole company for their own gains. Then Robert turned the topic into the accusation of crimes, and how he would tighten up his policies to fix the holes that enabled con masters to thrive, but those were only vague words, Robert was clever enough to not make any real promises. After this bombardment of speeches, the focus of people turned to the accusing human perversity, just in the favor of Robert and many Humanities Groups.

Chapter 21-  
While these are happening, Stannis was working on making the media shut up about all the bad news concerning the Baratheons with the helps from the Starks. His brain was numb after watching and listening to the false and “shameless” acts of Renly and Robert. He hated it, and he hated even more to admit that he agreed with them that this is the approach necessary to save the company, and to keep his precious Shireen in a good living condition, to keep her up in this world. He needed the cooperation to be safe to ensure an, at least economically wise, safe future for Shireen. A man must do everything to support what he treasured the most.

Chapter 22-  
The Last Eve. The Crisis subsided, the public forgot about it like nothing happened. Robert started to prepare for next year’s campaign, and Renly went back from an audition successfully. A brilliant new movie, as Renly said. They were back onto their usual glamorous and glorious path. Stannis took Shireen to that fancy gift shop again, but she did not buy anything. They went to the sweets shop, and Shireen ordered the cake with a shark on it. She ate in silence, and reluctantly handed Stannis the letter from Davos.

Chapter 23-  
New Years Day. Davos received medical care in the jail, finally. If the care came two days late, Davos would be no more. His old friend Salla went to visit him, feeding him milk and light porridge. Davos did not receive the letter of forgiveness, and he was cutting his heart into pieces with his own guilt. He regretted his past deeds, how he ruined the lives of all his sons and other people’s son, and he blamed himself for making Devan live on his own from such a young age. Davos confessed about his three times in the Dark Room. He wanted a confession before he died, as he believed that he was going to.  
Stannis was thinking about that letter. After this crisis, he was forged from unbendable iron to true steel like Robert. He understood many things now, and he curiously didn’t resent the man anymore. He went to visit Davos in jail. Davos was too frail to raise, and he was asleep when Stannis visited him, so Stannis was granted to go into his cell with some foodstuff. Unknowing to Stannis, Shireen has taken the letter for she knew letters were not allowed to be send into Great Septania prisons out of fear of jail gangs forming. She slipped the latter into his father’s bag of gifts as he left to see Davos.

Chapter 24-  
Shireen remembering the time when she was bullied and was crying on the field. Devan talked to her, and became her first friend. She also remembered the time when other boys tried to pull her hair and torn her dress, Devan, still very short at the time, stood in front of her. He took a couple punches, and he punched back. Not many people dared to pick on her afterwards. But there were still some, but as Devan grew taller and stronger, and Rickon and Arya transferred to her school, no one dared to treat her badly anymore. She was very shy and not courageous at all, and she had now absorbed a lot from her best friends. In third grade, her own wit and charm started to shine, and she had won the hearts of friends like Sansa and the Hound. But her happiness all started with the kind Devan. Devan had helped her through many things, thought she, there was nothing wrong with leading father into helping Devan’s father. And as she fell asleep, she dreamt of the two times Devan took her to the farm and it brought so much happiness to a girl who was constantly sad at the time. She loved that farm. She quietly wished that Rickon was there with them on the farm, and she laughed a little at her greed. Greed was not good, little girl, this was what Stannis would say. She mimicked the voice of his father in her dreams. She loved her father, just like her father loved her. Stannis was stern, but he's awkward and shy ways of expressing love was enough for Shireen to see all the adorations that were hidden underneath. 

Chapter 25-  
Rickon came to visit. Shireen shared a story of how she bonded with her father after her mother left, and before she only knew her mother for she took care of her, she was afraid of her “cold and unfeeling” father. She did not love him by then, or she did, she just did not realize it. Rickon told Shireen about how the first day was like for him when he was adopted by Eddard Stark. His funny story calmed Shireen and eased her worries. She worried too much, just like her father.

Chapter 26-  
A year passed. Stannis had visited Davos many times in jail. New Years Day.  
Davos was released and was united with his sons. The four elder sons spoke of their forgiveness, but still decided to live their lives separate from Davos. Devan came back to live with him, and decided not to leave. This year Devan turned twelve, and he did the exact opposite of what he decided to do two years ago. Stannis took Shireen for a visit to the old farmhouse. Devan and Shireen talked. Davos was still too weak to entertain guests, so Stannis walked around the farm, saw the pony was carefully cared for. The road and ground froze hard, and was not irksome at all like the first day he was here. He saw a patch of land filled with roses, just like how Shireen described when she told him a secret about Devan and his father's field of red flowers. The spring air was cold, and he dodged back into the farmhouse. He sat by the fireplace, and a memory slowly came back to him.

Chapter 27-  
A month after New years day. Davos’ health improved greatly. The children received their fall report cards and were ready to go to middle school. If you look closely to Shireen’s graduation picture, you would see her and Rickon wearing matching rings weaved from grasses, make by Rickon of course. Roberts had won his campaign, and Renly and Loras both won yet another Gold Chestnut Award. Melisandre and Selyse got married. Davos tended his fish farms and onion farms, and he managed to make enough out of usual revenues for himself and Devan. His eldest boys are grown up enough to feed themselves. Davos knew this would not last long, for the mould in the matchbox could not be fully cured. He would die in three or five years. But Stannis did not care. Davos finally told Stannis the story behind his fingers, about his sons, and his most shameful history in the Dark Room. He thought Stannis should know before making a commitment. Stannis talked about his childhood. Much to Devan and Shireen’s liking, they became friends.

Even better than friends. One day Stannis took Rickon and Shireen for a sleepover at the farm house. Shireen saw his father rubbing Davos’ hair, like testing if it was of its true colour or was it covered in mud. It was its true colour. Davos quietly said something, and Stannis smiled.


	13. 【SD】Merry As I Was Chapter 1

The tall hall of uncle Robert’s Red Keep was filled with noise.  
Shireen heard the sound of wood cracking in the hearth, of footmen running back and fro with plates after plates in their hands, of dogs, of clinking glasses, and of the storm-like laughter of uncle Robert.  
She sat quietly in her chair, feeling the warmth of the fire on her back. Unlike her father, she quite enjoyed a gathering like this. A little liveliness, a little joy, and even a little argument were totally welcome. This was how a big family was supposed to feel like, Shireen always believed. Noisy, yet welcoming.  
She turned to look at her father, and he returned a glance, almost kindly.  
It was Seven’s Eve after all.  
Rickon Stark sat in a chair beside her, Shaggydog laid by his feet. Light of the hearth shone on his red hair, his freckles, and that goofy, silly smile she adored.  
“Did anyone tell you what that mark of yours looked like?” The wild boy whispered, lips almost touching her ear.  
“It sure did not look like anything to me. What idea have you now in your crazy little head?” She laughed a little at Rickon and rubbed his hand lightly.  
“It looked like a map of Great Septania, Shireen. You’ll see it too when you look closely. Maybe one day you’ll be Queen! I’ll cheer for you on your coronation.”  
“Nonsense Rickon. The Royal Family had no son, how am I to marry one and be queen.”  
Even if there was a prince, she would not be the one chosen and she did not want to be. It did not matter, she was a Baratheon and she did not want to be anything else.  
The boy gave her a bright witty grin. “Who said they had no son! One might be in this room right now, you never know.”  
But there couldn’t be. Rickon was jesting, that was all. He always liked to tease her.  
Shaggydog ran toward Nymeria. Rickon kissed Shireen’s hand, then slipped away to sit by Arya.  
They looked so different, Shireen thought as she observed the room. Although none of the Stark children were Eddard’s own, it was still striking to realized how Arya was similar to her father, whereas Robb, Bran, and Rickon looked nothing like him.  
The two elder Stark boys sat by their father next to uncle Robert. Sansa, with irritation written on her face, was stuck with Arya and Rickon on the other side of the hearth, just across from Shireen.  
Arya poked Rickon’s back and mocked at something. Shireen thought Rickon would start a usual fight with Arya, but to her surprise, he did not. He looked…queerly shy. Arya turned and shot Shireen a big warm smile.  
Shireen sighed in her head. Rickon, as everyone knew, was wild. The only one who beat him easily on such matter could only be Arya, his sister who possessed a pair of piercing eyes that saw all. Their little quarrels at school became a part of Shireen’s everyday life, and it was good and comforting to see, especially when uncle Robert’s laugh and her own father’s growl were starting to make her a little worried.  
Uncle Robert was having too good of a time with his beloved Stark at the middle of the table, so was uncle Renly with his beloved Tyrell on a pile of cushions in a corner of the room. Shireen couldn’t help but search for his father. Of course, he was utterly alone, sitting at the edge of the table filled with a great spread of dinner. For two years he was alone. Who was it that she expected to see with him? Shireen had no answer.  
The fire of the hearth burned hot and high. Shireen looked at the scattered groups of people in this way too empty hall. No one really mingled, except the occasional stirring among the children. They were broken islands in a stormy sea, she thought, each little group of people was a little peek of rock, separated by the dark and raging voids in between.  
What a loving family she had.  
She expected nothing more to happen that night. Seven’s Eve had always ended that way, every year that she remembered. The gathering for festival always began with a loud feast that everyone talked to everyone. That was the part Shireen liked. She loved to soak herself in the stories of the adults and the small talks of the younger that made her feel warm and not lonely. However, this inclusive friendliness always faded away after the feast was done. A table of people scattered, looking just like a whole continent breaking apart. People liked to form little groups, Shireen knew, they did this at school too.  
Shireen sat up straight and looked at her father. It was almost time. She was sure father would announce their leave very soon. Things happen in an ordinary pattern in normal years, and unlike the Seven’s Eve two years ago, this was a normal year, surely the patterns would repeat itself.  
“Gather around! Gather around the Fire!” A booming voice made Shireen jump to her feet.  
For a second there, she did not know what to do.  
What was this? Nothing like this happened before.  
Shireen looked around and saw that she was not the only one confused. Uncle Robert, with his hands on Mr. Stark’s lean waist, walked toward the fire and sat on the carpet. The Stark boys followed them like cubs following the head wolf. Sansa walked gracefully behind, almost alongside Stannis, stiff as always. Rickon and Arya ran toward her, each taking one of her hands, and they sat in a huddle by the fire. The last to arrive was uncle Renly and Mr. Loras. They rose reluctantly from their soft pile of pillows and walked slowly to the hearth with hands held together.  
Shireen almost wanted to protest. We all know you are in love, she wanted to say. There was no point to show off like that.  
Maybe her discomfort was too obvious, Arya and Rickon each whispered in her year, making a strange echoing effect.  
“Love needs to be expressed, Shireen.” A girls voice said.  
“Or else no one will know it exists.” A boys voice this time.  
“I have always wondered how are you not afraid of your father.”  
“Not everyone can see unspoken love like you do, Baratheon.”  
They giggled and removed their lips from her ears.  
Uncle Robert clicked a spoon again his cut wine glass, and the room fell silent.  
“I’ve decided to do something different this year. Ned said in Winterfell they used to share stories with the family on Seven’s Eve.” He paused, took a sip from his glass, and put a strong arm on Mr. Stark’s shoulder. “ Well then, story time, starting this year, with the family.”  
Shireen couldn’t help but cheer.  
She has always loved stories. She read well, she rented movies to watch, and she tried to dig personal stories out of his father. Unfortunately, the latter was always unsuccessful. Tonight she was offered a great chance, she thought, to get to know more about her relatives.  
“Robert.”  
It was Stannis who spoke. Uncle Robert squinted his eyes and looked at him.  
“What?”  
“It is late, and Storm’s End is far. Shireen and I are to leave.”  
Uncle Robert furrowed his brow in displeasure, but before he could say a word, Mr. Stark waved his hand and silence him.  
“Mr. Stannis,” the Quiet Wolf spoke in a soft low voice. “It is already dark outside, unsuitable for driving. Stay, please, until the morning. We all want you and Shireen safe. My Arya and Rickon certainly want to stay longer with Shireen, they are very fond of her.”  
Stannis’s face was unreadable, and he did not say a word.  
Arya and Rickon popped their heads up and looked at Stannis. “Please,” their eyes seemed to say.  
Stannis nodded finally.  
Eddard Stark looked at Robert, then gazed back at Stannis, his grey eyes gleaming in the shimmer of fire. “Thank you. We promise that we will not force you to tell a story, good sir.”  
It was a joke, Shireen knew, to ease the nerves of her father. However, Stannis took it seriously.  
“I will share.” He said, curt as ever. “To not spoil the fun, as Robert would accuse me of.”  
Shireen saw uncle Renly and Mr. Tyrell laugh silently after hearing this. She did not like it.  
“Starks are so bloody good with people.” Uncle Robert muttered.  
No one spoke for a moment. The air turned solid.  
“Mr. Loras,” suddenly the eldest Stark girl broke in, saving everyone from the awkward silence in the hall. “Would you please start with a story?”  
“Of course, fair Sansa. Renly and I are happy to start.”  
Shireen looked at them closely. She hasn’t done so in a long time.  
The two young men seemed to give off a light when sat in front of the fire. Lustrous honey hair intertwined with raven dark, their eyes locked as their fingers tangled. A very fair pair, at least appearance wise. No wonder so many girls and boys swooned over their movies, Shireen thought, even some of her classmates were their fans.  
She never liked uncle Renly particularly much, not as much as she liked uncle Robert or Mr. Stark. There was something about him that made Shireen feel like he was different. Maybe it was his stature, too slim. Maybe it was his face, too soft. Maybe it was…Shireen did not know how to describe it. Uncle Renly did not look like a Baratheon, that was her best way to put it. It was that dense, stormlike power that both uncle Robert and her father had that she did not see in him.  
“We met eleven years ago, didn’t we?” As Loras spoke, Renly nodded at him.  
“We’ll tell a story of how we met. It was quite dramatic actually.”  
Mr. Loras was a Tyrell after all. The Tyrells were known to have voices sweet as honey and smooth as silk.  
“We were little boys by them, no more than fourteen I believe. There was a school party that day, and we met on a poolside. Renly had a fruit punch, and I stole a sip from it. I never asked his name, nor did he mine. We just talked…” Loras paused, and looked at Renly, with a mysterious smile on his face.  
Renly picked up where Loras trailed off.  
“I remember him wearing a mask. We still own that mask now, for the memory that is.”  
“We still do,’ Loras echoed.  
“I am sure all of you know Shakespeare? Well, the time we met our families were having a little crisis, just like the two families in Fair Verona did. We danced the night we met, and well…” Renly blushed and hid his wet lips behind his hand.  
“We kissed, twice, before we learned who one another was.”  
Shireen heard her father grinding his teeth in anger. He had told her about that crisis eleven years ago. It was grave, Stannis used to say, I would have died if not for that man.  
Shireen never asked what man. Stannis would not say anything if he did not want to, no matter how you nag him.  
And now, Loras and Renly were saying it was a “little” crisis like it did not matter at all.  
“A year after, we decided to get together. By that time, our names did not matter anymore. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet is it not.” Loras concluded their tale that was making Shireen uneasy, mostly because of her father. It was poorly told, Shireen won’t even call it a proper story, but she clapped nonetheless.  
“It is your turn now, Mr. Stark.” Stannis broke in, apparently relieved from the voice of Loras. He did his best to not hate the Tyrells, but still, it was impossible for him to be fond of one.  
“I’ll take it.” Roared uncle Robert.  
Shireen’s eardrum hurt from his booming volume. Uncle Robert was always jolly, his blue eyes, unlike her father’s were hard and cold, burnt with passion, and his dark hair formed loose curls that dangled over his ear and forehead in a manner that charmed the whole country. He looked the perfect President, tall, lengthy legs, broad shoulders and strong arms. His presence was strong enough for him to fill an entire room all by himself. Shireen must admit, uncle Robert was the first handsome in the whole family. But he drank and ate too much, Shireen thought, he would grow fat easily when age caught up with him.  
Eddard Stark, on the other hand, did not have such a strong presence. He was leaner and shorter than Robert, with facial expressions reserved to the point it looked almost solemn. And his eyes…Arya had his eyes, Shireen realized. Those frozen grey eyes, their gleams change as the owner’s moods change, shifting from soft as fog to hard as stone.  
Now the ice has melted and those eyes were warm.  
“No, I will tell. Go drink your wine, Mr. President.” He said in a low voice, soft like how one whispered goodnight to children.  
The warmth of the fire was on Shireen’s back, and Mr. Stark spoke about the age of the Heroes…  
Stannis once told Shireen in a mocking tone that uncle Robert befriended a strange man who took mythology aside from economics when Robert was in Boarding school. It was Mr.Stark, the realization suddenly came to her. She also heard that the old Headmaster Jon Arryn became a father figure to them…and people say Eddard Stark was more Arryn then Stark…  
Mr. Stark talked about the Pack, the Dragons, the Long Night…Many things that she did not know before. The firewood crackled, and Shireen drifted into her own thoughts.  
She thought about Devan, her best friend. What was he doing now? Was his family happy? She did not know. She never met his family. Devan once hinted that he was not allowed to talk about them. He always used “I was told” instead of “my father told me…”  
Shireen fell asleep, and she dreamt of fog.  
Thick fog blown from the sea wove between the trees in the wood in front of the school, the chilliness of the night lingered in the air. She waved goodbye to the driver and saw Devan amongst the mist of the morning.  
This was how they met. On the first day of elementary school, very early in the morning.  
Devan was still short and a little chubby by then, but his good looks already started to show. As he walked out of the wood, Shireen saw his chocolate coloured hair and amber eyes. There was a man dressed in earthy tone walking behind Devan, and they looked nothing alike. They walked to the edge of the wood, the man tied Devan’s shoelaces for him and melted away in the chilling fog.  
The cold woke her up. She was in bed right now, the hearth was burning hot and strong, but still, she shivered.


	14. 【民国】本无求

他将烟熄了，从枕头底下拿出一个锦囊来。  
“哝，谢谢你的。”他一边说，一边用两根手指夹着递过来。

她妥帖的收好，点了点头。电灯关着，他看不清她脸上表情，只觉得那鼻尖有点红，眼下有点肿。

“好吧。”她说，从小皮包里拿了口红，又拿了粉，背过身补起妆来。  
“这点银子，下回该涨了。”  
白森森的粉遮住了她熬得乌青的眼圈，遮住了她脖子上淡淡的刀疤。那是第三次救他命时候留下的。他从镜子里看着她一双手，没拿刀，没拿枪，只是点了胭脂将好气色画上。

女人肃着脸，一双眼睛也直勾勾的不动。他认识他这么多年，这种神色还只有五六年前他俩老师被人杀了时候才见过。她看着不落寞，也不伤心，也不透出心酸叫人可怜。她背挺得笔直，肩膀绷着，脖颈微微曲着，烫过的乌发卷着。

他定定的看着她。他看了她十几年，还是觉得好看的很，好看的叫他心都要碎了。

“我觉得我挺喜欢你的。”他站起来，又拿了支烟。  
女人穿起风衣。“我也觉得我挺喜欢你。”  
她用惯常哄骗人的语调对他说着，将身后腰带打成蝴蝶结。

“我走了。”  
她回头对他笑得妩媚，他笑却不出来，因为那双弯若勾月看着他的眼睛是死的。

“先打开看看吧。”他用手里夹着的烟指了下她手里皮包。她又坐下，打开了锦囊。  
她眼睛一眨，神色活了，再一眨，泪珠子就淌下来，又被她赶紧擦了。

“这种玩笑开不得的。”她像是被烫了一下，手一抖，戒指掉回秀囊里。  
“开不得的。”

他摇摇头。  
“我知道你做为人消灾的营生。”一不小心命就没了。可是你不怕，我又怕什么？  
他坐到她身边，握住她的手。

“可我是真的喜欢你呀。”  
他说着，将戒指给她戴上。


	15. 【ABO】残年

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 是第一章而已。

从前有个行事狠辣风采绝伦的omega老了，原本汁水四溢的身体干涸，信期虽然还在却已看着不撩人，信素虽然依旧甘甜却也变得平淡叫人腻味。他退休了，天下太平以后再没有当年的拼命劲头，不疯不闹，性子变得温吞，不像战时的他，倒像是回到了求学的时代。这个omega和他的alpha感情生疏了，联接变得脆弱，标记因为时光印记很深却开始模糊。直到有一天，他的alpha带着一身变了气味的信素回家。  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

我今天最后一个病人是个年长的Omega。  
他一个人来的。  
那位先生相貌生得好，戴着眼镜斯斯文文。他后颈的标记有些年头了，身上却没有结合多年本该馥郁的信素香。他规矩地坐在桌对面，温和地对我笑，又用平静而柔软的声音向我提了一个极危险的要求。  
“大夫，您说可以吗？”

我从没见过这样的Omega，这座诊所开了五年见了足够多的人，他是第一个提这种要求的。  
“这个手术，可以吗？”他笑眼弯弯，温温软软地慢慢说，直叫我害怕，也叫我有点伤心。  
我是个年轻的Alpha，很多事情都不明白。本来就不是传统Alpha该有的要强的性子，在做了大夫后就完全觉得人健健康康的活着就是高兴事。印象中被标记过的Omega一般都漂漂亮亮恩恩爱爱的，怎么看都甜蜜的很。单身的Omega嘛，闻着又香又甜，看着身娇体软，普遍脸蛋长得都挺好看。我也做梦呢，想着哪天抱一个回家，就像抱一个舒服又养眼的娃娃，在后颈腺体上咬一口，再守着青春靓丽过一辈子。而这个人呢，却想把脖子上挨的那一口给抹掉。这算什么事呢。  
那位先生厚重镜片后的双眼看向我，没什么威胁性质，却已足够叫他猜到我心中所想。他收敛了笑容，活像个老学究，又摇摇头，仿佛在说，“哪有这么好的”

“手术...没有办法做。一个月内新的标记可以勉强去除，可您...”我觉得有些窘迫。不是我不答应，是国内真没谁能安全的动好这一刀。  
那位先生点点头，眉角低下来，却又抿起嘴唇笑。  
“做得成。我年轻些的时候，挨过不少次呢。”他声音不大，却有点压人。  
我更加害怕了。害怕起来就没有多想，没有去想这看似斯文的先生为什么会有过几个不同的标记。我那时候脑子里只闪过一句话：这种手术，刀偏了一点就会死人的。  
这位先生可看起来不像是死的。几回了，怎么可能呢？  
”我会动这刀，教你们好不好？”长者眯着眼睛，更像个学者了。  
我有些懵。  
“您也是个大夫啊？”我问。其实心里我觉得他不像。他面上看着是个慈和的长者，那双漆黑幽暗的眼睛却不会骗人。在夜里走太久，太渴望光明，就把自己眼里的光拿出来，不知道去照亮了谁。他的眼睛闭起来了，阻隔我试探的目光。  
“不是。”他轻轻缓缓地说，有点像在笑我异想天开，又像是在笑自己。“我会用刀，却不是手术刀。你们大夫做的是救人的好事啊。”  
我突然明白他为什么会做这个手术了。

我是一个喜欢历史的人，看着书里二十年前打仗，十年前打仗，夹在中间的时候也打，只是没那么凶。现在时代挺好的，那些个时候的很多资料都解禁了，很多确切的事实都公布了，很多在黑暗中工作的人最后也翻了案，沉冤昭雪。一次次的捷报下暗藏着不为人知的惊心动魄和暗地里的牺牲最后终于重见天日，不叫他们抛头颅洒热血，尸身凉了烂了，名字事迹也被人忘了。这些人，组员之间，搭档之间，总要互相照应的。没点本事，又拿什么照应去呢。  
我觉着既然书里能看到部分真实，就应该去看，也愿意去看。不谦虚地说，我看了挺多书，也都还记得一点。主要是记得字里行间的内容，许多照片就记不太清晰。但要是多出现了了几遍的，印象就深些。

我挺清晰的想起一张本本书里都单独辟出一页来印的面容，底下介绍是有生年，没有卒年的。

“您...”我心里砰砰直跳，想问，又有点说不出话。  
“您帮我做这个手术好吗？”他没有接腔，依然温和如水的问我。”  
我刚要拒绝，他就举起一只的手，鬼使神差的叫我咽下了喉里的话。  
“不会有危险的。要命的是对生殖腔的连带损害，不是手术本身不是吗。”他打趣一般眨眨眼睛，盯着我笑得狡黠，又带点哀求的意味。  
我听明白了，但宁可不明白。这种话，怎么能笑着说呢。  
但是他确确实实是笑着的，好像年代遥远了，摘点小零件的事，就全然无所谓了。  
我走到他身后去，检查那块模糊的牙印。离得那么近，我却什么都没闻到，一点信素的味道都没有。我信了。他说的是真的。  
我捏紧拳头，做了决定。  
“可以，”我说。“但您要如实告诉我您为什么如此坚持。”


	16. 【红颜料】我该回去了

窗外在下雨，玻璃格子上水珠破开雾气划出道道泪痕。他从床上爬起来，拖过椅子在画架前坐下。木椅子在石头地面上发出响亮的摩擦声，他却混不在意，好像一点不担心会吵醒伏在他床头的人。  
他没有把气灯打开，只是点起多年不用的牛眼油灯挂在画架边的铁钩上。他调试好光圈大小，让黄光只聚在画布上，是边缘清晰的一个圈，圈外的一切依然藏在黑暗里。他深吸一口气，拿出铅笔一看却摇了摇头。无奈的，他站起来，从床底下拖出一个小铁皮箱子。箱子上的锁链已经开始生锈，显然很多年不曾开启过。  
他解下腰带上拴着的钥匙，一点点打开已经老化的七把锁。  
箱子里的所剩无几的颜料干燥结块，调和用的油也变得浓稠而浑浊。  
画家叹口气，把那些零零散散的东西拿出来，收拾到勉强能用。  
不剩多少了，他的材料啊。这一次用完了就再也没有了。

他慢吞吞的，在油灯旁暖暖僵冷的手指，再拿起铁箱子里最后一节铅笔头，开始起稿。

老画家的手是颤抖的，笔却好似带有自己的神志一般画出一条条流畅的线条。画家的眼睛看着床头黑暗中趴伏的影子，耳朵捕捉着空气里莫须有的声音，心里叫嚣的声音如洪钟嗡鸣，响亮到他自己也听不清。他是无心作画的。  
铅笔停了下来。画家收回心神，看着画布上的小神殿。他引导着自己的灵魂走进已经坍塌的大门，引导自己的双腿踩在长满青苔的破碎台阶上。他抬头看着漏雨的拱顶，看着斑驳褪色的天顶彩画。他每走一步，每看一眼，他的画布上就多一抹干燥的色彩，一点点堆成完整的画幅。

这座神殿已经隐隐有倾颓的意思，墙壁歪斜了去，曾经堂皇的圣人像全没了头颅，墙角边扶拱上的兽首人像一个个掉下来砸成碎石片，就连祭台上的衬布也早被霉菌和别的什么东西吞噬干净。  
这个地方太过衰败，连贫苦的牧羊小子也不愿意在哪个风雨交加的夜晚来这里寻求庇护。  
这栋曾经的神灵栖息之所如今俨然已被世人抛弃，被诸神抛弃。

神殿在静默中变得愈加残破。老房子孤独的立在风雨中，不见人影，也不见有神灵降临。直到十五年前那个同样风雨交加的夜晚。  
那个晚上依旧没有牧羊小子走进这个沉寂的地方。来的是个一个懵懂的外乡人，一个清贫的年轻画匠。风霜没有染上他的眉眼，岁月没有抹去他眼里的火花。就算是在这样一个深秋下雨的日子里，就算他被家里流放，他依然毫无忧心的走进这阴森可怖的大殿，铺开了油布，张开了画架，拿出他的油灯，打开当年没有上锁，里面尚且满满当当的铁盒子，就坐在石柱断裂的遗骸上，描绘他眼里看到的景象。  
老房子似乎感觉到了他的存在，战战巍巍的支起瘦弱的手臂撑起天顶被侵蚀无几的瓦片。一时间，似乎从头顶漏下来的雨少了，墙壁裂口外传来的风声轻了，整个老房子习惯性的保持着静默，却不似平时麻木的无言，反倒像是期待时害怕语无伦次从而选择的沉默。  
画家的心是敏锐的。他低声感谢老房子庇护，眼睛里神采更亮了几分。  
画家的画布上破败的神殿画了一半。他盯着神殿远处的黑暗里看，使劲眨眨眼睛，又摇摇头，将画上遮风挡雨的屋顶补全了。他再看看，觉得还少了什么，思来想去，在画里的祭台上添了一只刚刚点燃的蜡烛。年轻的火焰明亮的，在风雨中跳动，照亮了祭台后面巨大的雕塑。  
那个雕塑存不存在画家并不知道，毕竟他是个凡人，视野无法穿透黑暗。莫名其妙的，他相信那个雕塑的存在。他自己想着想着，给那石雕添上一双睁开的眼睛。  
虽然他知道那石雕看不见。  
雕塑从来都是没有眼仁的，画家想，那不公平。他们本来就不能动，又没有眼珠，什么都看不见。被困在无边的黑暗里，不知道自己在那，不知道身边发生了是什么。多不公平啊。  
他画上一双暗夜般漆黑却清澈的眼睛。  
你看呀，画家想，这样就好啦。  
他收起画架，将行李背在身上，嘴里叼着新鲜的面包，提着油灯就往祭台的方向去了。  
他毕竟是个年轻的，敌不过自己的好奇心。那黑暗的包裹里，到底有没有一座雕塑呢？  
他走着，灯亮着。头顶上有雨落下来，却永远只落在他身旁，从没有降在他身上将他淋湿了。画家撇撇嘴，从腰包里拿出一只和画里一样的蜡烛。祭台上火光燃起，天空中突然一声闷雷炸响。画家当做没听见，只是看着那年轻的火焰，明亮的，在风雨中跳动。一座巨大的雕像低头看着他。  
画家看见的面庞是安详的，身躯却残破异常。那饱满额头中间缺了个窟窿，一双硕大羽翼砸在地上，双手从肩膀断裂，胸腹处精心雕琢的褶皱布料被铲去，双脚上了铁镣，如今已经锈烂，只留下红棕色的肮脏痕迹。他走上前去，拿出身上最好的手帕，将那罪恶的污渍擦去。  
她身上有人为的伤疤，也有天降的痕迹。  
他抬眼看。雕像没有秋天夜幕般澄澈的眼睛。那双大理石的眼睛无神的，上面道道划痕，早就被毁去了。这座雕像是看不见的。  
雨下大了，老神殿一阵颤抖，头顶砖瓦一片片砸下来。画家无知无觉的，只是扑上去匍匐在雕塑脚边。  
我终于找到你了。画家的眼泪滴在画布上。他拿出一块红宝石，恰巧是雕像额头上缺口那般大小。满是裂纹的宝石在触到雕像的一瞬间消失无踪。  
外面雨骤然停了，风却越来越大，祭台上的蜡烛熄灭。神殿的似乎终于放弃坚持倒了下来，腐烂的木头，风雨侵蚀的砖石一起颓垮。雕塑微微弓着的脊背遮盖了画家小小的身影。祭台上方的天顶最终也掉了下来，两旁支撑的石柱也倒了下来。雕像的脊柱被砸得折断了。曾经白皙光洁的大理石向画家相反的方向砸下去，却在落地之前化成点点荧光，散了又聚。  
整座神殿终于变成一堆废墟，什么都没有了。  
画家站起来，调整背上的行囊。他笑着，向前伸出手。  
别回到这里来啦，他说。你看不见，又不能飞了，以后的路我牵着你慢慢走。

画家放下手中的笔，看着画布上的图画。  
他画错了什么的东西。是什么呢，他仔细看。啊，是了。没有雕像，没有蜡烛，只有一个有着秋夜般双眸的男孩牵着一个落入凡尘的女孩慢慢地走。

画家叹口气，展开新的一块画布来。他削着铅笔，头低下来。

他记得他小时候很顽皮。画家抬起手，画出一座钟楼。  
家里人不准他上到那钟楼去。那里放着传家的红宝石，家族的兴盛与财富的来源全是那宝贝带来的呢，自从先祖三百年前远征回来，家业就没有衰落过，他们告诉他。只有长子才能收到那物件的庇佑，其他人就算是看了一看也会被诅咒的，他们这样告诉他。  
小画家从来对这话嗤之以鼻。要诅咒他的怕不是那宝石，而是他们自己吧。他生来和别人不一样，他知道。只要有那些特殊的颜料，他就能做到别人做不到的一件事。而正因如此，所有人都怕他。

小画家知道家里人在骗他。  
他爬上那钟楼的次数数不清。他见过那枚宝石，摸过那枚宝石。他拜托过玻璃匠人烧了一枚假的，悄悄替换了那枚宝石。他虽不知道那宝石是哪里来的，但他不害怕什么诅咒。  
早在上到那钟楼以前他就知道宝石的存在了。他在梦里见过，殷红如血的，在烛光下却黯淡无光。那不是块漂亮的石头。  
不漂亮，然而却牢牢抓住了小画家的心。他半夜下床跑到那钟楼去。守卫在巡逻，他却不害怕。心里有个声音在告诉他，别怕，别怕，往前走呀，他们抓不住你的。  
在摸过那宝石以后，他就再不是曾经那个被处处刁难的小倒霉鬼了。  
父母争执的时候不再波及到他，兄弟间斗殴的时候也不会殃及他。他在纷纷杂杂之中穿梭着，磨炼自己的画技。他从来没有过没有灵感的时候。  
后来他大哥继位了以后把小弟锁在房间里。大哥每晚都到那去，每天早上都骂骂咧咧的出来。  
三子中的二子是鬼之子。小画家依旧安静的生活着，似乎被身边的众人所遗忘。麻烦遗弃了他，他乐得清闲。每天傍晚，他都听着七点的钟声，悄悄潜入放着宝藏的密室里去。  
有一天他发现那枚宝石的颜色越来越淡，里面也出现了裂纹。

那天他被发现了。那天他被逐出家门。

画家扑哧一笑，继续手上的作画。

他带着那枚宝石跑啊跑。漫无目的的跑。他的内心似乎被牵引着。他走了很多地方，却从来不为脚下的路途感到迷茫。  
他是一个极端幸运的人。他去过混乱的南方沙漠，骆驼商帮混战的，他毫发无伤的回来了。  
他去过极北的冰原，他身后的旅人一脚踏进冰眼里再没出来，他却安然无恙。  
他去过坍塌的溶洞里，涉过地下暗河，闯过蝙蝠巢穴。他去过数不清城邦的首都与乡间，他找到过数个人外的文明。  
他画过这些地方，他画过路途上的很多人。有些时候他用普通的颜料赚取生活，有些时候他用细腻的颜料作画留念，而少数的时候...少数的时候他会因为不知名的冲动拿出铁盒子里他精心配制的颜料，去探究那些画面之下暗藏的故事，去捕捉一个模糊的身影。  
他从小便感觉到一直陪伴在他身边的身影。  
他在路上走着，寻找着。他每用那颜料作一张画，那身影便清晰一分。他愈加焦急的旅行着，愈加急切的从一个地方辗转到另一个地方。

他最终还是走累了。十五年前那个风雨交加的秋夜，他给面包师傅家小女儿画像耽搁了时间。他走着夜路，天上下着雨。虽然雨滴似乎躲着他，但路上湿滑，他也不愿意再赶路了。  
多清爽的一个夜晚啊，他打起精神想着，看见远方神殿的影子。霎时间他心里某跟弦收紧了。他小跑起来，向着神殿而去。  
泥地湿滑，他却一跤也没摔。  
是啊，他是个何其幸运的人。

画家揉揉酸胀的眼睛，放下手中的画笔。那个钟楼画得旧了，他想，又添了两笔让它看起来活泼些。毕竟是最开始的地方啊，他想，应该画得更好才对。  
他至今不知道该对那钟楼有什么样的情感。一方面他对那里是万分厌弃的，另一方面他又非常庆幸。  
那块红宝石本不应该在那里。但是如果红宝石不在他家，他又何来今日之幸。  
他转过头去看看床头。  
那里被黑暗笼罩，什么都没有。唉，管那钟楼那么多有什么用呢。  
画家用脏兮兮的袖子擦眼泪，又展开新的一块画布来。

他不剩多少颜料了。画家估摸着，舍弃了铅笔。  
希望以后再也不要用到这颜料。画家叹息。  
他画了一个小女孩，穿着大理石般颜色的小裙子。她有着父亲秋夜般的澄澈双眼，面容长得和母亲一般恬淡。她微微的笑，望向床头的虚空。  
想起那未来的母亲，画家悲喜交加。他是个何其幸运的，前二十年有她守护着，后来又能和她配十五年夫妻。  
可惜...可恨那些冷酷的神灵。该死的，该死的，冷酷的神灵！她本已自由...

他们还不曾有孩子呢。  
画家哀戚地望着那虚影，三幅画上的颜料吸收了牛眼灯的光芒，熠熠生辉。

那光芒耀眼的，织成一条细细的丝线。那光芒穿透一道黑暗的壁垒，丝线探进去，缠在一只纤细的手腕上，融化掉它触碰到的冰冷镣铐。  
自由的盲眼的女子顺着丝线的牵引转过身来。画家双手涂满了最后的颜料，他伸出手来，壁垒在他与她之间融化。他牵起她的手，慢慢地走。

“我丈夫来找我呢，”她对身后冰冷的众神说。  
他们无权拘束他。十五年前有个凡人放了她自由。十五年前有个凡人说愿意牵着她慢慢走。  
女子笑着。  
“我该回去了。”


End file.
